v.\6 


Return  this  book  on  or  before  the 
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University  of  Illinois  Library 


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The  Library 
of  the 
University  of  lllinol* 


7.  krtyL- 


ttei-p  swum 


S4PANY. 


THOMAS  CARLYLE, 

From  Maclisp's  Gallery,  Etched  by  E.  H.  Gat rett. 


i  P 

Carlyle's  Complete  Works* 

ILLUSTRATED  LIBRARY  EDITION. 

LBTTEB-DHY  PPJ1LETS, 

EDITED  BY 

THOMAS  CARLYLE. 

BOSTON : 
blAINDAKD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 
J  899. 

CONTENTS. 


NO.  FAQE 

I.  The  Present  Time,  ......  5 

II.  Model  Prisons,    .         .         .         •         „  .48 
III.  Downing  Street,     .         .         .         .         .  .84 

VI.  The  New  Downing  Street,     ....  124 

V.  Stump-Orator,         ......  161 

VI.  Parliaments,       ......  200 

VII.  Hudson's  Statue,      .         .         .         .         .  .237 

VIII.  Jesuitism,  .......  272 


Summary,      ........  315 

Index,  ,  327 


775563 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


No.  I    THE  PEESENT  TIME. 

[1st  February  1850.] 

The  Present  Time,  youngest-born  of  Eternity,  child  and  heir 
of  all  the  Past  Times  with  their  good  and  evil,  and  parent  of 
all  the  Future,  is  ever  a  '  New  Era '  to  the  thinking  man  ;  and 
comes  with  new  questions  and  significance,  however  common- 
place it  looks  :  to  know  it,  and  what  it  bids  us  do,  is  ever  the 
sum  of  knowledge  for  all  of  us.  This  new  Day,  sent  us  out 
of  Heaven,  this  also  has  its  heavenly  omens  ; — amid  the  bust- 
ling trivialities  and  loud  empty  noises,  its  silent  monitions, 
which,  if  we  cannot  read  and  obey,  it  will  not  be  well  with  us  ! 
No  ; — nor  is  there  any  sin  more  fearfully  avenged  on  men  and 
Nations  than  that  same,  which  indeed  includes  and  presup- 
poses all  manner  of  sins  :  the  sin  which  our  old  pious  fathers 
called  'judicial  blindness  ;' — which  we,  with  our  light  habits, 
may  still  call  misinterpretation  of  the  Time  that  now  is  ;  dis- 
loyalty to  its  real  meanings  and  monitions,  stupid  disregard 
of  these,  stupid  adherence  active  or  passive  to  the  counterfeits 
and  mere  current  semblances  of  these.  This  is  true  of  all 
times  and  days. 

But  in  the  days  that  are  now  passing-over  us,  even  fools 
are  arrested  to  ask  the  meaning  of  them  ;  few  of  the  genera- 
tions of  men  have  seen  more  impressive  days.  Days  of  endless 
calamity,  disruption,  dislocation,  confusion  worse  confounded  : 
if  they  are  not  days  of  endless  hope  too,  then  they  are  days 
of  utter  despair.  For  it  is  not  a  small  hope  that  will  suffice, 
the  ruin  being  clearly,  either  in  action  or  in  prospect,  univer- 


6 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


sal.  There  must  be  a  new  world,  if  there  is  to  be  any  world 
at  all !  That  human  things  in  our  Europe  can  never  return 
to  the  old  sorry  routine,  and  proceed  with  anjr  steadiness  or 
continuance  there  ;  this  small  hope  is  not  now  a  tenable  one. 
These  days  of  universal  death  must  be  days  of  universal  new- 
birth,  if  the  ruin  is  not  to  be  total  and  final !  It  is  a  Time  to 
make  the  dullest  man  consider  ;  and  ask  himself,  Whence  he 
came  ?  Whither  he  is  bound  ? — A  veritable  '  New  Era/  to  the 
foolish  as  well  as  to  the  wise. 

Not  long  ago,  the  world  saw,  with  thoughtless  joy  which 
might  have  been  very  thoughtful  joy,  a  real  miracle  not  here- 
tofore considered  possible  or  conceivable  in  the  world, — a  Ke- 
forming  Pope.  A  simple  pious  creature,  a  good  country- 
priest,  invested  unexpectedly  with  the  tiara,  takes  up  the  New 
Testament,  declares  that  this  henceforth  shall  be  his  rule  of 
governing.  No  more  finesse,  chicanery,  hypocrisy,  or  false  or 
foul  dealing  of  any  kind  :  God's  truth  shall  be  spoken,  God's 
justice  shall  be  done,  on  the  throne  called  of  St.  Peter  :  an 
honest  Pope,  Papa,  or  Father  of  Christendom,  shall  preside 
there.  And  such  a  throne  of  St.  Peter  ;  and  such  a  Christen- 
dom, for  an  honest  Papa  to  preside  in  !  The  European  pop- 
ulations everywhere  hailed  the  omen  ;  with  shouting  and  re- 
joicing, leading-articles  and  tar-barrels ;  thinking  people 
listened  with  astonishment, — not  with  sorrow  if  they  were 
faithful  or  wise  ;  with  awe  rather  as  at  the  heralding  of  death, 
and  with  a  joy  as  of  victory  beyond  death  !  Something  pious, 
grand  and  as  if  awful  in  that  joy,  revealing  once  more  the 
Presence  of  a  Divine  Justice  in  this  world.  For,  to  such  men 
it  was  very  clear  how  this  poor  devoted  Pope  would  prosper, 
with  his  New  Testament  in  his  hand.  An  alarming  business, 
that  of  governing  in  the  throne  of  St.  Peter  by  the  rule  of  ve- 
racity !  By  the  rule  of  veracity,  the  so-called  throne  of  St. 
Peter  was  openly  declared,  above  three-hundred  years  ago,  to 
be  a  falsity,  a  huge  mistake,  a  pestilent  dead  carcass,  which 
this  Sun  was  weary  of.  More  than  three  hundred  years  ago, 
the  throne  of  St.  Peter  received  peremptory  judicial  notice  to 
quit ;  authentic  order,  registered  in  Heaven's  chancery  and 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


7 


since  legible  in  the  hearts  of  all  brave  men,  to  take  itself 
away, — to  begone,  and  let  us  have  no  more  to  do  with  it  and 
its  delusions  and  impious  deliriums  ; — and  it  has  been  sitting 
every  day  since,  it  may  depend  upon  it,  at  its  own  peril  withal, 
and  will  have  to  pay  exact  damages  yet  for  every  day  it  has 
so  sat.  Law  of  veracity  ?  What  this  Popedom  had  to  do  by 
the  law  of  veracity,  wras  to  give-up  its  own  foul  galvanic  life, 
an  offence  to  gods  and  men  ;  honestly  to  die,  and  get  itself 
buried  ! 

Far  from  this  was  the  thing  the  poor  Pope  undertook  in 
regard  to  it ; — and  yet,  on  the  whole,  it  was  essentially  this 
too.  "  Reforming  Pope  ?  "  said  one  of  our  acquaintance,  often 
in  those  weeks,  "  Was  there  ever  such  a  miracle  ?  About  to 
break-up  that  huge  imposthume  too,  by  '  curing '  it  ?  Turgot 
and  Necker  were  nothing  to  this.  God  is  great ;  and  when  a 
scandal  is  to  end,  brings  some  devoted  man  to  take  charge  of 
it  in  hope,  not  in  despair  !  " — But  cannot  he  reform  ?  asked 
many  simple  persons  ; — to  whom  our  friend  in  grim  banter 
would  reply  :  "  Reform  a  Popedom, — hardly.  A  wretched  old 
kettle,  ruined  from  top  to  bottom,  and  consisting  mainly  now 
of  foul  grime  and  rust :  stop  the  holes  of  it,  as  your  anteces- 
sors have  been  doing,  with  temporary  putty,  it  may  hang  to- 
gether yet  a  while  ;  begin  to  hammer  at  it,  solder  at  it,  to 
what  you  call  mend  and  rectify  it, — it  will  fall  to  shreds,  as 
sure  as  rust  is  rust ;  go  all  into  nameless  dissolution, — and 
the  fat  in  the  fire  will  be  a  thing  worth  looking  at,  poor 

Pope !  "  So  accordingly  it  has  proved.    The  poor  Pope, 

amid  felicitations  and  tar-barrels  of  various  kinds,  went  on 
joyfully  for  a  season  :  but  he  had  awakened,  he  as  no  other 
man  could  do,  the  sleeping  elements  ;  mothers  of  the  whirl- 
winds, conflagrations,  earthquakes.  Questions  not  very  soluble 
at  present,  were  even  sages  and  heroes  set  to  solve  them,  .began 
everywhere  with  new  emphasis  to  be  asked.  Questions  which 
all  official  men  wished,  and  almost  hoped,  to  postpone  till 
Doomsday.  Doomsday  itself  had  come  ;  that  was  the  terrible 
truth  !— 

For,  sure  enough,  if  once  the  law  of  veracity  be  acknowl- 
edged as  the  rule  for  human  things,  there  will  not  anywThere 


8 


LATTER-BAY  PAMPHLETS. 


be  want  of  work  for  the  reformer  ;  in  very  few  places  do 
human  things  adhere  quite  closely  to  that  law  !  Here  was  the 
Papa  of  Christendom  proclaiming  that  such  was  actually  the 
case  ; — whereupon  all  over  Christendom  such  results  as  we 
have  seen.  The  Sicilians,  I  think,  were  the  first  notable  body 
that  set-about  applying  this  new  strange  rule  sanctioned  by 
the  general  Father  ;  they  said  to  themselves,  We  do  not  by  the 
law  of  veracity  belong  to  Naples  and  these  Neapolitan  Officials  ; 
we  will,  by  favour  of  Heaven  and  the  Pope,  be  free  of  these. 
Fighting  ensued  ;  insurrection,  fiercely  maintained  in  the 
Sicilian  Cities  ;  with  much  bloodshed,  much  tumult  and  loud 
noise,  vociferation  extending  through  all  newspapers  and 
countries.  The  effect  of  this,  carried  abroad  by  newspapers 
and  rumour,  was  great  in  all  places  ;  greatest  perhaps  in  Paris, 
which  for  sixty  years  past  has  been  the  City  of  Insurrections. 
The  French  People  had  plumed  themselves  on  being,  what- 
ever else  they  were  not,  at  least  the  chosen  '  soldiers  of  lib- 
erty,' who  took  the  lead  of  all  creatures  in  that  pursuit,  at 
least ;  and  had  become,  as  their  orators,  editors  and  littera- 
teurs diligently  taught  them,  a  People  whose  bayonets  were 
sacred,  a  kind  of  Messiah  People,  saving  a  blind  world  in  its 
own  despite,  and  earning  for  themselves  a  terrestrial  and  even 
celestial  glory  very  considerable  indeed.  And  here  were  the 
wretched  down-trodden  populations  of  Sicily  risen  to  rival 
them,  and  threatening  to  take  the  trade  out  of  their  hand. 

No  doubt  of  it,  this  hearing  continually  of  the  very  Pope's 
glory  as  a  Reformer,  of  the  very  Sicilians  fighting  divinely  for 
liberty  behind  barricades, — must  have  bitterly  aggravated  the 
feeling  of  every  Frenchman,  as  he  looked  around  him,  at  home, 
on  a  Louis-Philippism  which  had  become  the  scorn  of  all  the 
world.  "  Ichabod  ;  is  the  glory  departing  from  us  ?  Under 
the  sun  is  nothing  baser,  by  all  accounts  and  evidences,  than 
the  system  of  repression  and  corruption,  of  shameless  dis- 
honesty and  unbelief  in  anything  but  human  baseness,  that 
we  now  live  under.    The  Italians,  the  very  Pope,  have  become 

apostles  of  liberty,  and  France  is  what  is  France  !" — We 

know  what  France  suddenly  became  in  the  end  of  February 
next ;  and  by  a  clear  enough  genealogy,  we  can  trace  a  con- 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


siderable  share  in  that  event  to  the  good  simple  Pope  with 
the  New  Testament  in  his  hand.  An  outbreak,  or  at  least 
a  radical  change  and  even  inversion  of  affairs  hardly  to  be 
achieved  without  an  outbreak,  everybody  felt  was  inevitable 
in  France  :  but  it  had  been  universally  expected  that  France 
would  as  usual  take  the  initiative  in  that  matter  ;  and  had 
there  been  no  reforming  Pope,  no  insurrectionary  Sicily, 
France  had  certainly  not  broken-out  then  and  so,  but  only 
afterwards  and  otherwise.  The  French  explosion,  not  antici- 
pated by  the  cunningest  men  there  on  the  spot  scrutinising 
it,  burst-up  unlimited,  complete,  defying  computation  or  con- 
trol. 

Close  following  which,  as  if  by  sympathetic  subterranean 
electricities,  all  Europe  exploded,  boundless,  uncontrollable  ; 
and  we  had  the  year  1848,  one  of  the  most  singular,  disastrous, 
amazing,  and,  on  the  whole,  humiliating  years  the  European 
world  ever  saw.  Not  since  the  irruption  of  the  Northern  Bar- 
barians has  there  been  the  like.  Everywhere  immeasurable 
Democracy  rose  monstrous,  loud,  blatant,  inarticulate  as  the 
voice  of  Chaos.  Everywhere  the  Official  holy-of -holies  was 
scandalously  laid  bare  to  dogs  and  the  profane  : — Enter,  all 
the  world,  see  what  kind  of  Official  holy  it  is.  Kings  every- 
where, and  reigning  persons,  stared  in  sudden  horror,  the 
voice  of  the  whole  world  bellowing  in  their  ear,  "  Begone,  ye 
imbecile  hypocrites,  histrios  not  heroes  !  Off  with  you,  off !  " 
— and,  what  was  peculiar  and  notable  in  this  year  for  the  first 
time,  the  Kings  all  made  haste  to  go,  as  if  exclaiming,  "  We 
are  poor  histrios,  we  sure  enough  ; — did  you  wTant  heroes  ? 
Don't  kill  us  ;  we  couldn't  help  it !  "  Not  one  of  them  turned 
round,  and  stood  upon  his  Kingship,  as  upon  a  right  he  could 
afford  to  die  for,  or  to  risk  his  skin  upon  ;  by  no  manner  of 
means.  That,  I  say,  is  the  alarming  peculiarity  at  present. 
Democracy,  on  this  new  occasion,  finds  all  Kings  conscious 
that  they  are  but  Playactors.  The  miserable  mortals,  enact- 
ing their  High  Life  Below  Stairs,  with  faith  only  that  this 
Universe  may  perhaps  be  all  a  phantasm  and  hypocrisis, — the 
truculent  Constabie  of  the  Destinies  suddenly  enters :  "  Scan- 
dalous Phantasms,  what  do  you  here  ?    Are  '  solemly  consti- 


10 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


tuted  impostors '  the  proper  Kings  of  men  ?  Did  you  think 
the  Life  of  Man  was  a  grimacing  dance  of  apes  ?  To  be  led 
always  by  the  squeak  of  your  paltry  fiddle  ?  Ye  miserable, 
this  Universe  is  not  an  upholstery  Puppet-play,  but  a  terrible 
God's  Fact ;  and  you,  I  think, — had  not  you  better  begone  !" 
They  fled  precipitately,  some  of  them  with  what  we  may  call 
an  exquisite  ignominy, — in  terror  of  the  treadmill  or  worse. 
And  everywhere  the  people,  or  the  populace,  take  their  own 
government  upon  themselves  ;  and  open  1  kinglessness,'  what 
Ave  call  anarchy, — how  happy  if  it  be  anarchy  plus  a  street- 
constable  ! — is  everywhere  the  order  of  the  day.  Such  was 
the  history,  from  Baltic  to  Mediterranean,  in  Italy,  France, 
Prussia,  Austria,  from  end  to  end  of  Europe,  in  those  March 
days  of  1848.  Since  the  destruction  of  the  old  Koman  Em- 
pire by  inroad  of  the  Northern  Barbarians,  I  have  known 
nothing  similar. 

And  so,  then,  there  remained  no  King  in  Europe  ;  no  King 
except  the  Public  Haranguer,  haranguing  on  barrel-head,  in 
leading-article  ;  or  getting  himself  aggregated  into  a  National 
Parliament  to  harangue.  And  for  about  four  months  all 
France,  and  to  a  great  degree  all  Europe,  rough-ridden  by 
every  species  of  delirium,  except  happily  the  murderous  for 
most  part,  was  a  weltering  mob,  presided  over  by  M.  de  La- 
martine  at  the  Hotel-de-Yille  ;  a  most  eloquent  fair-spoken 
literary  gentleman,  whom  thoughtless  persons  took  for  a 
prophet,  priest  and  heaven-sent  evangelist,  and  whom  a  wise 
Yankee  friend  of  mine  discerned  to  be  properly  'the  first 
stump-orator  in  the  world,  standing  too  on  the  highest  stump, 
— for  the  time.'  A  sorrowful  spectacle  to  men  of  reflection, 
during  the  time  he  lasted,  that  poor  M.  de  Lamartine  ;  with 
nothing  in  him  but  melodious  wind  and  soft  sowder,  which  he 
and  others  took  for  something  divine  and  not  diabolic !  Sad 
enough  :  the  eloquent  latest  impersonation  of  Chaos-come- 
again  ;  able  to  talk  for  itself,  and  declare  persuasively  that  it 
is  Cosmos  !  However,  you  have  but  to  wait  a  little,  in  such 
cases  ;  all  balloons  do  and  must  give-up  their  gas  in  the  press- 
ure of  things,  and  are  collapsed  in  a  sufficiently  wretched 
manner  before  long. 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


11 


And  so  in  City  after  City,  street-barricades  are  piled,  and 
truculent,  more  or  less  murderous  insurrection  begins  ;  popu- 
lace after  populace  rises,  King  after  King  capitulates  or  ab- 
sconds ;  and  from  end  to  end  of  Europe  Democracy  has 
blazed-up  explosive,  much  higher,  more  irresistible  and  less 
resisted  than  ever  before  ;  testifying  too  sadly  on  what  a  bot- 
tomless volcano,  or  universal  powder-mine  of  most  inflam- 
mable mutinous  chaotic  elements,  separated  from  us  by  a  thin 
earth-rind,  Society  with  all  its  arrangements  and  acquirements 
everywhere,  in  the  present  epoch,  rests  !  The  kind  of  persons 
who  excite  or  give  signal  to  such  revolutions, — students,  young 
men  of  letters,  advocates,  editors,  hot  inexperienced  enthusi- 
asts, or  fierce  and  justly  bankrupt  desperadoes,  acting  every- 
where on  the  discontent  of  the  millions  and  blowing  it  into 
flame, — might  give  rise  to  reflections  as  to  the  character  of 
our  epoch.  Never  till  now  did  young  men,  and  almost  chil- 
ren,  take  such  a  command  in  human  affairs.  A  changed  time 
since  the  word  Senior  (Seigneur,  or  Elder)  was  first  devised  to 
signify  '  lord,'  or  superior  ; — as  in  all  languages  of  men  we  find 
it  to  have  been  !  Not  an  honourable  document  this  either,  as 
to  the  spiritual  condition  of  our  epoch.  In  times  when  men 
love  wisdom,  the  old  man  will  ever  be  venerable,  and  be  ven- 
erated, and  reckoned  noble  :  in  times  that  love  something  else 
than  wisdom,  and  indeed  have  little  or  no  wisdom,  and  see 
little  or  none  to  love,  the  old  man  will  cease  to  be  venerated  ; 
— and  looking  more  closely,  also,  you  will  find  that  in  fact  he 
has  ceased  to  be  venerable,  and  has  begun  to  be  contempt- 
ible ;  a  foolish  boy  still,  a  boy  without  the  graces,  generosities 
and  opulent  strength  of  young  boys.  In  these  days,  what  of 
lo7*d»hip  or  leadership  is  still  to  be  done,  the  youth  must  do 
it,  not  the  mature  or  aged  man  ;  the  mature  man,  hardened 
into  sceptical  egoism,  knows  no  monition  but  that  of  his  own 
frigid  cautions,  avarices,  mean  timidities ;  and  can  lead  no- 
whither  towards  an  object  that  even  seems  noble.  But  to  re- 
turn. 

This  mad  state  of  matters  will  of  course  before  long  allay 
itself,  as  it  has  everywhere  begun  to  do  ;  the  ordinary  necessi- 
ties of  men's  daily  existence  cannot  comport  with  it,  and  these, 


12 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


whatever  else  is  cast  aside,  will  have  their  way.  Some  re- 
mounting,— very  temporary  remounting, — of  the  old  machine, 
under  new  colours  and  altered  forms,  will  probably  ensue  soon 
in  most  countries  :  the  old  histrionic  Kings  will  be  admitted 
back  under  conditions,  under  '  Constitutions,'  with  national 
Parliaments,  or  the  like  fashionable  adjuncts  ;  and  everywhere 
the  old  daily  life  will  try  to  begin  again.  But  there  is  now  no 
hope  that  such  arrangements  can  be  permanent ;  that  they 
can  be  other  than  poor  temporary  makeshifts,  which,  if  they 
try  to  fancy  and  make  themselves  permanent,  will  be  displaced 
by  new  explosions  recurring  more  speedily  than  last  time.  In 
such  baleful  oscillation,  afloat  as  amid  raging  bottomless  ed- 
dies and  conflicting  sea-currents,  not  steadfast  as  on  fixed 
foundations,  must  European  Society  continue  swaying,  now 
disastrously  tumbling,  then  painfully  readjusting  itself,  at 
ever  shorter  intervals, — till  once  the  new  rock-basis  does  come 
to  light,  and  the  weltering  deluges  of  mutiny,  and  of  need  to 
mutiny,  abate  again ! 

For  universal  Democracy,  whatever  we  may  think  of  it,  has 
declared  itself  as  an  inevitable  fact  of  the  days  in  which  we 
live  ;  and  he  who  has  any  chance  to  instruct,  or  lead,  in  his 
days,  must  begin  by  admitting  that :  new  street-barricades, 
and  new  anarchies,  still  more  scandalous  if  still  less  sangui- 
nary, must  return  and  again  return,  till  governing  persons  every- 
where know  and  admit  that.  Democracy,  it  may  be  said  every- 
where, is  here  : — for  sixty  years  now,  ever  since  the  grand  or 
First  -French  Revolution,  that  fact  lias  been  terribly  an- 
nounced to  all  the  world  ;  in  message  after  message,  some  of 
them  very  terrible  indeed  ;  and  now  at  last  all  the  world 
ought  really  to  believe  it.  That  the  world  does  believe  it ; 
that  even  Kings  now  as  good  as  believe  it,  and  know,  or  with 
just  terror  surmise,  that  they  are  but  temporary  phantasm 
Playactors,  and  that  Democracy  is  the  grand,  alarming,  immi- 
nent  and  indisputable  Reality:  this,  among  the  scandalous 
phases  we  witnessed  in  the  last  two  years,  is  a  phasis  full  of 
hope  :  a  sign  that  we  are.  advancing  closer  and  closer  to  the 
very  Problem  itself,  which  it  will  behove  us  to  solve  or  die ; — 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


13 


that  all  fighting  and  campaigning  and  coalitioning  in  regard 
to  the  existence  of  the  Problem,  is  hopeless  and  superfluous 
henceforth.  The  gods  have  appointed  it  so;  no  Pitt,  nor 
body  of  Pitts  or  mortal  creatures  can  appoint  it  otherwise. 
Democracy,  sure  enough,  is  here  :  one  knows  not  how  long  it 
will  keep  hidden  underground  even  in  Russia  ; — and  here  in 
England,  though  we  object  to  it  resolutely  in  the  form  of 
street-barricades  and  insurrectionary  pikes,  and  decidedly  will 
not  open  doors  to  it  on  those  terms,  the  tramp  of  its  million 
feet  is  on  all  streets  and  thoroughfares,  the  sound  of  its  be- 
wildered thousandfold  voice  is  in  all  writings  and  speakings, 
in  all  thinkings  and  modes  and  activities  of  men  :  the  soul 
that  does  not  now,  with  hope  or  terror,  discern  it,  is  not  the 
one  we  address  on  this  occasion. 

What  is  Democracy ;  this  huge  inevitable  Product  of  the 
Destinies,  which  is  everywhere  the  portion  of  our  Europe  in 
these  latter  days  ?  There  lies  the  question  for  us.  Whence 
comes  it,  this  universal  big  black  Democracy  ;  whither  tends 
it ;  what  is  the  meaning  of  it  ?  A  meaning  it  must  have,  or 
it  would  not  be  here.  If  we  can  find  the  right  meaning  of  it, 
we  may,  wisely  submitting  or  wisely  resisting  and  controlling, 
still  hope  to  live  in  the  midst  of  it ;  if  we  cannot  find  the  right 
meaning,  if  we  find  only  the  wrong  or  no  meaning  in  it,  to 
live  will  not  be  possible  ! — The  whole  social  wisdom  of  the 
Present  Time  is  summoned,  in  the  name  of  the  Giver  of  Wis- 
dom, to  make  clear  to  itself,  and  lay  deeply  to  heart  with  an 
eye  to  strenuous  valiant  practice  and  effort,  what  the  meaning 
of  this  universal  revolt  of  the  European  Populations,  which 
calls  itself  Democracy,  and  decides  to  continue  permanent, 
may  be. 

Certainly  it  is  a  drama  full  of  action,  event  fast  following 
event ;  in  which  curiosity  finds  endless  scope,  and  there  are 
interests  at  stake,  enough  to  rivet  the  attention  of  all  men, 
simple  and  wise.  Whereat  the  idle  multitude  lift-up  their 
voices,  gratulating,  celebrating  sky-high  ;  in  rhyme  and  prose 
announcement,  more  than  plentiful,  that  noiv  the  New  Era, 
and  long-expected  Year  One  of  Perfect  Human  Felicity  has 
come.    Glorious  and  immortal  people,  sublime  French  citi- 


LATTER  DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


zens,  heroic  barricades  ;  triumph  of  civil  and  religious  liberty 
— 0  Heaven !  one  of  the  inevitablest  private  miseries,  to  an 
earnest  man  in  such  circumstances,  is  this  multitudinous  efflux 
of  oratory  and  j^salmody,  from  the  universal  foolish  human 
throat ;  drowning  for  the  moment  all  reflection  whatsoever, 
except  the  sorrowful  one  that  you  are  fallen  in  an  evil,  heavy- 
laden,  long-eared  age,  and  must  resignedly  bear  your  part  in 
the  same.  The  front  wall  of  your  wretched  old  crazy  dwell- 
ing, long  denounced  by  you  to  no  purpose,  having  at  last  fairly 
folded  itself  over,  and  fallen  prostrate  into  the  street,  the 
floors,  as  may  happen,  will  still  hang-on  by  the  mere  beam- 
ends,  and  coherency  of  old  carpentry,  though  in  a  sloping 
direction,  and  depend  there  till  certain  poor  rusty  nails  and 
wormeaten  dovetailings  give  way  : — but  is  it  cheering,  in  such 
circumstances,  that  the  whole  household  burst-forth  into  cele- 
brating the  new  joys  of  light  and  ventilation,  liberty  and  pict- 
uresqueness  of  position,  and  thank  God  that  now  the}'  have 
got  a  house  to  their  mind  ?  My  dear  household,  cease  singing 
and  psalmodying  ;  lay  aside  your  fiddles,  take  out  your  work- 
implements,  if  you  have  any ;  for  I  can  say  with  confidence 
the  ]aws  of  gravitation  are  still  active,  and  rusty  nails,  worm- 
eaten  dovetailings,  and  secret  coherency  of  old  carpentry,  are 
not  the  best  basis  for  a  household ! — In  the  lanes  of  Irish 
cities,  I  have  heard  say,  the  wretched  people  are  sometimes 
found  living,  and  perilously  boiling  their  potatoes,  on  such 
swing-floors  and  inclined  planes  hanging-on  by  the  joist-ends  ; 
but  I  did  not  hear  that  they  sang  very  much  in  celebration  of 
such  lodging.  No,  they  slid  gently  about,  sat  near  the  back 
wall,  and  perilously  boiled  their  potatoes,  in  silence  for  most 
part ! — 

High  shouts  of  exultation,  in  every  dialect,  by  every  vehicle 
of  speech  and  writing,  rise  from  far  and  near  over  this  last 
avatar  of  Democracy  in  1848  :  and  yet,  to  wise  minds,  the  first 
aspect  it  presents  seems  rather  to  be  one  of  boundless  misery 
and  sorrow.  What  can  be  more  miserable  than  this  universal 
hunting-out  of  the  high  dignitaries,  solemn  functionaries,  and 
potent,  grave  and  reverend  signiors  of  the  world  ;  this  storm- 
ful  rising-up  of  the  inarticulate  dumb  masses  everywhere, 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


15 


against  those  who  pretended  to  be  speaking  for  them  and 
guiding  them  ?  These  guides,  then,  were  mere  blind  men 
only  pretending  to  see  ?  These  rulers  were  not  ruling  at  all ; 
they  had  merely  got-on  the  attributes  and  clothes  of  rulers, 
and  were  surreptitiously  drawing  the  wages,  while  the  work 
remained  undone  ?  The  Kings  were  Sham-Kings,  playacting 
as  at  Drury  Lane ; — and  what  were  the  people  withal  that  took 
them  for  real  ? 

It  is  probably  the  hugest  disclosure  of  falsity  in  human 
things  that  was  ever  at  one  time  made.  These  reverend  Dig- 
nitaries that  sat  amid  their  far-shining  symbols  and  long- 
sounding  long-admitted  professions,  were  mere  Impostors, 
then  ?  Not  a  true  thing  they  were  doing,  but  a  false  thing. 
The  story  they  told  men  was  a  cunningly-devised  fable  ;  the 
gospels  they  preached  to  them  were  not  an  account  of  man's 
real  position  in  this  world,  but  an  incoherent  fabrication,  of 
dead  ghosts  and  unborn  shadows,  of  traditions,  cants,  indo- 
lences, cowardices, — a  falsity  of  falsities,  which  at  last  ceases 
to  stick  together.  Wilfully  and  against  their  will,  these  high 
units  of  mankind  were  cheats,  then  ;  and  the  low  millions  who 
believed  in  them  were  dupes, — a  kind  of  inverse  cheats,  too, 
or  they  would  not  have  believed  in  them  so  long.  A  universal 
Bankruptcy  of  Imposture  ;  that  may  be  the  brief  definition  of 
it.  Imposture  everywhere  declared  once  more  to  be  contrary 
to  Nature  ;  nobody  will  change  its  word  into  an  act  any  far- 
ther : — fallen  insolvent ;  unable  to  keep  its  head  up  by  these 
false  pretences,  or  make  its  pot  boil  any  more  for  the  present ! 
A  more  scandalous  phenomenon,  wide  as  Europe,  never  af- 
flicted the  face  of  the  sun.  Bankruptcy  everywhere  ;  foul  ig-. 
nominy,  and  the  abomination  of  desolation,  in  all  high  places  : 
odious  to  look  upon,  as  the  carnage  of  a  battle-field  on  the 
morrow  morning  ; — a  massacre  not  of  the  innocents  ;  we  can- 
not call  it  a  massacre  of  the  innocents  ;  but  a  universal  tum- 
bling of  Impostors  and  of  Impostures  into  the  street ! — 

Such  a  spectacle,  can  we  call  it  joyful  ?  There  is  a  joy  in 
it,  to  the  wise  man  too  ;  yes,  but  a  joy  full  of  awe,  and  as  it 
were  sadder  than  any  sorrow, — like  the  vision  of  immortality, 
unattainable  except  through  death  and  the  grave  !    And  yet 


16 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


who  would  not,  in  his  heart  of  hearts,  feel  piously  thankful 
that  Imposture  has  fallen  bankrupt  ?  By  all  means  let  it  fall 
bankrupt ;  in  the  name  of  God  let  it  do  so,  with  whatever 
misery  to  itself  and  to  all  of  us.  Imposture,  be  it  known 
then, — known  it  must  and  shall  be, — is  hateful,  unendurable 
to  God  and  man. — Let  it  understand  this  everywhere  ;  and 
swiftly  make  ready  for  departure,  wherever  it  yet  lingers  ;  and 
let  it  learn  never  to  return,  if  possible  !  The  eternal  voices, 
very  audibly  again,  are  speaking  to  proclaim  this  message, 
from  side  to  side  of  the  world.  Not  a  very  cheering  message, 
but  a  very  indispensable  one. 

Alas,  it  is  sad  enough  that  Anarchy  is  here  ;  that  we  are 
not  permitted  to  regret  its  being  here, — for  who  that  had, 
for  this  divine  Universe,  an  eye  which  was  human  at  all, 
could  wish  that  Shams  of  any  kind,  especially  that  Sham- 
Kings  should  continue?  No  :  at  all  costs,  it  is  to  be  prayed  by 
all  men  that  Shams  may  cease.  Good  Heavens,  to  what  depths 
have  we  got,  when  this  to  many  a  man  seems  strange  !  Yet 
strange  to  many  a  man  it  does  seem  ;  and  to  many  a  solid 
Englishman,  wholesomely  digesting  his  pudding  among  what 
are  called  the  cultivated  classes,  it  seems  strange  exceedingly  ; 
a  mad  ignorant  notion,  quite  heterodox,  and  big  with  mere 
ruin.  He  has  been  used  to  decent  forms  long  since  fallen 
empty  of  meaning,  to  plausible  modes,  solemnities  grown 
ceremonial, — what  you  in  your  iconoclast  humor  called  shams, 
— all  his  life  long ;  never  heard  that  there  was  any  harm  in 
them,  that  there  was  any  getting-on  without  them.  Did  not 
cotton  spin  itself,  beef  grow,  and  groceries  and  spiceries  come 
in  from  the  East  and  the  West,  quite  comfortably  by  the  side 
of  shams?  Kings  reigned,  what  they  were  pleased  to  call 
reigning  ;  lawyers  pleaded,  bishops  preached,  and  honourable 
members  perorated  ;  and  to  crown  the  whole,  as  if  it  were  all 
real  and  no  sham  there,  did  not  scrip  continue  saleable,  and 
the  banker  pay  in  bullion,  or  paper  with  a  metallic  basis? 
"The  greatest  sham,  I  havo  always  thought,  is  he  that  would 
destroy  shams." 

Even  so.  To  such  depth  have  /",  the  poor  knowing  person 
of  this  epoch,  got  ; — almost  below  the  level  of  lowest  human- 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


17 


ity,  and  down  towards  the  state  of  apehood  and  oxhood  !  For 
never  till  in  quite  recent  generations  was  such  a  scandalous 
blasphemy  quietly  set  forth  among  the  sons  of  Adam  ;  never 
before  did  the  creature  called  man  believe  generally  in  his  heart 
that  lies  were  the  rule  in  this  Earth  ;  that  in  deliberate  long- 
established  lying  could  there  be  help  or  salvation  for  him. 
could  there  be  at  length  other  than  hindrance  and  destruction 
for  him.  O  Heavyside,  my  solid  friend,  this  is  the  sorrow 
of  sorrows  :  what  on  earth  can  become  of  us  till  this  accursed 
enchantment,  the  general  summary  and  consecration  of  de- 
lusions, be  cast  forth  from  the  heart  and  life  of  one  and 
all !  Cast  forth  it  will  be  ;  it  must,  or  we  are  tending  at 
all  moments, — whitherward  I  do  not  like  to  name.  Alas, 
and  the  casting  of  it  out,  to  what  heights  and  what  depths 
will  it  lead  us,  in  the  sad  universe  mostly  of  lies  and  shams 
and  hollow  phantasms  (grown  very  ghastly  now),  in  which, 
as  in  a  safe  home,  we  have  lived  this  century  or  two  !  To 
heights  and  depths  of  social  and  individual  divorce  from  de- 
lusions,— of  'reform'  in  right  sacred  earnest,  of  indispensable 
amendment,  and  stern  sorrowful  abrogation  and  order  to  de- 
part,— such  as  cannot  well  be  spoken  at  present ;  as  dare 
scarcely  be  thought  at  present ;  which  nevertheless  are  very 
inevitable,  and  perhaps  rather  imminent  several  of  them ! 
Truly  we  have  a  heavy  task  of  work  before  us  ;  and  there  is 
a  pressing  call  that  we  should  seriously  begin  upon  it,  before 
it  tumble  into  an  inextricable  mass,  in  which  there  will  be 
no  working,  but  only  suffering  and  hopelessly  perishing ! — 

Or  perhaps  Democracy,  which  we  announce  as  now  come, 
will  itself  manage  it  ?  Democracy,  once  modelled  into  suf- 
frages, furnished  with  ballot-boxes  and  suchlike,  will  itself  ac- 
complish the  salutary  universal  change  from  Delusive  to  Real, 
and  make  a  new  blessed  world  of  us  by  and  by  ? — To  the 
great  mass  of  men,  I  am  aware,  the  matter  presents  itself 
quite  on  this  hopeful  side.  Democracy  they  consider  to  be  a 
kind  of  '  Government.'  The  old  model,  formed  long  since, 
and  brought  to  perfection  in  England  now  two  hundred  years 
ago,  has  proclaimed  itself  to  all  Nations  as  the  new  healing 
2 


18 


LATTER- DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


for  every  woe  ;  "  Set-up  a  Parliament,"  the  Nations  every- 
where say,  when  the  old  King  is  detected  to  be  a  Sham-King, 
and  hunted  out  or  not ;  "set-up  a  Parliament  ;  let  us  have 
suffrages,  universal  suffrages  ;  and  all  either  at  once  or  by 
due  degrees  will  be  right,  and  a  real  Millennium  come ! " 
Such  is  their  way  of  construing  the  matter. 

Such,  alas,  is  by  no  means  my  way  of  construing  the  mat- 
ter ;  if  it  were,  I  should  have  had  the  happiness  of  remaining 
silent,  and  been  without  call  to  speak  here.  It  is  because  the 
contrary  of  all  this  is  deeply  manifest  to  me,  and  appears  to 
be  forgotten  by  multitudes  of  my  contemporaries,  that  I  have 
had  to  undertake  addressing  a  word  to  them.  The  contrary 
of  all  this  ; — and  the  farther  I  look  into  the  roots  of  all  this, 
the  more  hateful,  ruinous  and  dismal  does  the  state  of  mind 
all  this  could  have  originated  in  appear  to  me.  To  examine 
this  recipe  of  a  Parliament,  how  fit  it  is  for  governing  Nations, 
nay  how  fit  it  may  now  be,  in  these  new  times,  for  governing 
England  itself  where  we  are  used  to  it  so  long  :  this,  too,  is 
an  alarming  inquiry,  to  which  all  thinking  men,  and  good 
citizens  of  their  country,  who  have  an  ear  for  the  small  still 
voices  and  eternal  intimations,  across  the  temporary  clamours 
and  loud  blaring  proclamations,  are  now  solemnly  invited. 
Invited  by  the  rigorous  fact  itself ;  which  will  one  day,  and 
that  perhaps  soon,  demand  practical  decision  or  redecision  of 
it  from  us, — with  enormous  penalty  if  we  decide  it  wrong  ! 
I  think  we  shall  all  have  to  consider  this  question,  one  day  ; 
better  perhaps  now  than  later,  when  the  leisure  may  be  less. 
If  a  Parliament,  with  suffrages  and  universal  or  any  conceiv- 
able kind  of  suffrages,  is  the  method,  then  certainly  let  us  set 
about  discovering  the  kind  of  suffrages,  and  rest  no  moment 
till  we  have  got  them.  But  it  is  possible  a  Parliament  may 
not  be  the  method  !  Possible  the  inveterate  notions  of  the 
English  People  may  have  settled  it  as  the  method,  and  the 
Everlasting  Laws  of  Nature  may  have  settled  it  as  not  the 
method  !  Not  the  whole  method  ;  nor  the  method  at  all,  if 
taken  as  the  whole  ?  If  a  Parliament  with  never  such  suf- 
frages is  not  the  method  settled  by  this  latter  authority,  then 
it  will  urgently  behove  us  to  become  aware  of  that  fact,  and  to 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


19 


quit  such  method  ; — we  may  depend  upon  it,  however  unani- 
mous we  be,  every  step  taken  in  that  direction  will,  by  the 
Eternal  Law  of  things,  be  a  step /row  improvement,  not  to- 
wards it. 

Not  towards  it,  I  say,  if  so !  Unanimity  of  voting, — that 
will  do  nothing  for  us  if  so.  Your  ship  cannot  double  Cape 
Horn  by  its  excellent  plans  of  voting.  The  ship  may  vote  this 
and  that,  above  decks  and  below,  in  the  most  harmonious  ex- 
quisitely constitutional  manner  :  the  ship,  to  get  round  Cape 
Horn,  will  find  a  set  of  conditions  already  voted  for,  and  fixed 
with  adamantine  rigour  by  the  ancient  Elemental  Powers, 
who  are  entirely  careless  how  you  vote.  If  you  can,  by  vot- 
ing or  without  voting,  ascertain  these  conditions,  and  valiantly 
conform  to  them,  you  will  get  round  the  Cape  :  if  you  cannot, 
— the  ruffian  Winds  will  blow  you  ever  back  again  ;  the  inex- 
orable Icebergs,  dumb  privy-councillors  from  Chaos,  will 
nudge  with  most  chaotic  '  admonition  ; '  you  will  be  flung 
half-frozen  on  the  Patagonian  cliffs,  or  admonished  into 
shivers  by  your  iceberg  councillors,  and  sent  sheer  down  to 
Davy  Jones,  and  will  never  get  round  Cape  Horn  at  all ! 
Unanimity  on  board  ship  ; — yes  indeed,  the  ship's  crew  may 
be  very  unanimous,  which  doubtless,  for  the  time  being,  will 
be  very  comfortable  to  the  ship's  crew,  and  to  their  Phantasm 
Captain  if  they  have  one  :  but  if  the  tack  they  unanimously 
steer  upon  is  guiding  them  into  the  belly  of  the  Abyss,  it  will 
not  profit  them  much  ! — Ships  accordingly  do  not  use  the 
ballot-box  at  all ;  and  they  reject  the  Phantasm  species  of 
Captains  :  one  wishes  much  some  other  Entities, — since  all 
entities  lie  under  the  same  rigorous  set  of  laws, — could  be 
brought  to  show  as  much  wisdom,  and  sense  at  least  of  self- 
preservation,  t\\Q  first  command  of  Nature.  Phantasm  Cap- 
tains with  unanimous  votings  :  this  is  considered  to  be  all  the 
law  and  all  the  prophets,  at  present. 

If  a  man  could  shake-out  of  his  mind  the  universal  noise 
of  political  doctors  in  this  generation  and  in  the  last  genera- 
tion or  two,  and  consider  the  matter  face  to  face,  with  his 
own  sincere  intelligence  looking  at  it,  I  venture  to  say  he 
would  find  this  a  very  extraordinary  method  of  navigating, 


20 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


■whether  in  the  Straits  of  Magellan  or  the  undiscovered  Sea 
of  Time.  To  prosper  in  this  world,  to  gain  felicity,  victory 
and  improvement,  either  for  a  man  or  a  nation,  there  is  but 
one  thing  requisite,  That  the  man  or  nation  can  discern  what 
the  true  regulations  of  the  Universe  are  in  regard  to  him  and 
his  pursuit,  and  can  faithfully  and  steadfastly  follow  these. 
These  will  lead  him  to  victory  ;  whoever  it  may  be  that  sets 
him  in  the  wTay  of  these, — were  it  Russian  Autocrat,  Chartist 
Parliament,  Grand  Lama,  Force  of  Public  Opinion,  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  M'Croudy  the  Seraphic  Doctor  with 
his  Last-evangel  of  Political  Economy, — sets  him  in  the  sure 
w7ay  to  please  the  Author  of  this  Universe,  and  is  his  friend 
of  friends.  And  again,  whoever  does  the  contrary  is,  for  a 
like  reason,  his  enemy  of  enemies.  This  may  be  taken  as 
fixed. 

And  now  by  what  method  ascertain  the  monition  of  the  gods 
in  regard  to  our  affairs  ?  How  decipher,  with  best  fidelity, 
the  eternal  regulation  of  the  Universe  ;  and  read,  from  amid 
such  confused  embroilments  of  human  clamour  and  folly,  what 
the  real  Divine  Message  to  us  is  ?  A  divine  message,  or  eter- 
nal regulation  of  the  Universe,  there  verily  is,  in  regard  to 
every  conceivable  procedure  and  affair  of  man  :  faithfully  fol- 
lowing this,  said  procedure  or  affair  will  prosper,  and  have  the 
whole  Universe  to  second  it,  and  carry  it,  across  the  fluctuat- 
ing contradictions,  towards  a  victorious  goal ;  not  following 
this,  mistaking  this,  disregarding  this,  destruction  and  wreck 
are  certain  for  every  affair.  How  find  it?  All  the  world  an- 
swers me,  "  Count  heads  ;  ask  Universal  Suffrage,  by  the  bal- 
lot-boxes, and  that  will  tell."  Universal  Suffrage,  ballot-boxes, 
count  of  heads  ?  Well, — I  perceive  we  have  got  into  strange 
spiritual  latitudes  indeed.  Within  the  last  half  century  or  so, 
either  the  Universe  or  else  the  heads  of  men  must  have  altered 
very  much.  Half  a  century  ago,  and  down  from  Father  Adam's 
time  till  then,  the  Universe,  wherever  I  could  hear  tell  of  it, 
was  wont  to  be  of  somewhat  abstruse  nature  ;  by  no  means 
carrying  ils  secret  written  on  its  face,  legible  to  every  passer- 
by ;  on  tin;  contrary,  obstinately  hiding  its  secret  from  all 
foolish,  slavish,  wicked,  insincere  persons,  and  partially  dis- 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


21 


closing  it  to  the  wise  and  noble-minded  alone,  whose  number 
was  not  the  majority  in  my  time ! 

Or  perhaps  the  chief  end  of  man  being  now,  in  these  im- 
proved epochs,  to  make  money  and  spend  it,  his  interests  in 
the  Universe  have  become  amazingly  simplified  of  late  ;  capa- 
ble of  being  voted-on  with  effect  by  almost  anybody  ?  '  To 
buy  in  the  cheapest  market,  and  sell  in  the  dearest  : '  truly  if 
that  is  the  summary  of  his  social  duties,  and  the  final  divine- 
message  he  has  to  follow,  we  may  trust  him  extensively  to  vote 
upon  that.  But  if  it  is  not,  and  never  was,  or  can  be  ?  If  the 
Universe  will  not  carry  on  its  divine  bosom  any  commonwealth 
of  mortals  that  have  no  higher  aim, — being  still  'a  Temple  and 
Hall  of  Doom,'  not  a  mere  Weaving-shop  and  Cattle-pen  ?  If 
the  unfathomable  Universe  has  decided  to  reject  Human  Beavers 
pretending  to  be  Men  ;  and  will  abolish,  pretty  rapidly  per- 
haps, in  hideous  mud-deluges,  their  '  markets  '  and  them,  un- 
less they  think  of  it  ? — In  that  case  it  were  better  to  think  of 
it :  and  the  Democracies  and  Universal  Suffrages,  I  can  ob- 
serve, will  require  to  modify  themselves  a  good  deal ! 

Historically  speaking,  I  believe  there  was  no  Nation  that 
could  subsist  upon  Democracy.  Of  ancient  Kepublics,  and 
Demoi  and  Populi,  we  have  heard  much  ;  but  it  is  now  pretty 
well  admitted  to  be  nothing  to  our  purpose  ; — a  universal-suf- 
frage republic,  or  a  general- suffrage  one,  or  any  but  a  most- 
limited-suffrage  one,  never  came  to  light,  or  dreamed  of  doing 
so,  in  ancient  times.  When  the  mass  of  the  population  were 
slaves,  and  the  voters  intrinsically  a  kind  of  kings,  or  men  born 
to  rule  others ;  when  the  voters  were  real  '  aristocrats '  and 
manageable  dependents  of  such, — then  doubtless  voting,  and 
confused  jumbling  of  talk  and  intrigue,  might,  without  im- 
mediate destruction,  or  the  need  of  a  Cavaignac  to  intervene 
with  cannon  and  sweep  the  streets  clear  of  it,  go  on  ;  and 
beautiful  developments  of  manhood  might  be  possible  beside 
it,  for  a  season.  Beside  it ;  or  even,  if  you  will,  by  means  of 
it,  and  in  virtue  of  it,  though  that  is  by  no  means  so  certain 
as  is  often  supposed.  Alas,  no  :  the  reflective  constitutional 
mind  has  misgivings  as  to  the  origin  of  old  Greek  and  Roman 
nobleness  ;  and  indeed  knows  not  how  this  or  any  other 


22 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


human  nobleness  could  well  be  'originated,' or  brought  to 
pass,  by  voting  or  without  voting,  in  this  world,  except  by  the 
grace  of  God  very  mainly  ; — and  remembers,  with  a  sigh,  that 
of  the  Seven  Sages  themselves  no  fewer  than  three  were  bits 
of  Despotic  Kings,  Tvpawoi,  '  Tyrants '  so-called  (such  being 
greatly  wanted  there) ;  and  that  the  other  four  were  very  far 
from  Eed  Republicans,  if  of  any  political  faith  whatever !  We 
may  quit  the  Ancient  Classical  concern,  and  leave  it  to  College- 
clubs  and  speculative  debating-societies,  in  these  late  days. 

Of  the  various  French  Eepublics  that  have  been  tried,  or 
that  are  still  on  trial, — of  these  also  it  is  not  needful  to  say 
any  word.  But  there  is  one  modern  instance  of  Democracy 
nearly  perfect,  the  Eepublic  of  the  United  States,  which  has 
actually  subsisted  for  threescore  years  or  more,  with  immense 
success  as  is  affirmed  ;  to  which  many  still  appeal,  as  to  a  sign 
of  hope  for  all  nations,  and  a  'Model  Republic.'  Is  not 
America  an  instance  in  point?  Why  should  not  all  Nations 
subsist  and  nourish  on  Democracy,  as  America  does  ? 

Of  America  it  would  ill  beseem  any  Englishman,  and  me 
perhaps  as  little  as  another,  to  speak  unkindly,  to  speak  wn- 
patriotically ,  if  any  of  us  even  felt  so.  Sure  enough,  America 
is  a  great,  and  in  many  respects  a  blessed  and  hopeful  phe- 
nomenon. Sure  enough,  these  hardy  millions  of  Anglo-saxon 
men  prove  themselves  worthy  of  their  genealogy  ;  and,  with 
the  axe  and  plough  and  hammer,  if  not  yet  with  any  much 
finer  kind  of  implements,  are  triumphantly  clearing-out  wide 
spaces,  seedfields  for  the  sustenance  and  refuge  of  mankind, 
arenas  for  the  future  history  of  the  world  ;  doing,  in  their 
day  and  generation,  a  creditable  and  cheering  feat  under  the 
sun.  But  as  to  a  Model  Republic,  or  a  model  anything,  the 
wise  among  themselves  know  too  well  that  there  is  nothing 
to  be  said.  Nay  the  title  hitherto  to  be  a  Commonwealth  or 
Nation  at  all,  among  the  Idvq  of  the  world,  is,  strictly  consid- 
ered, still  a  thing  they  are  but  striving  for,  and  indeed  have 
not  yet  done  much  towards  attaining.  Their  Constitution, 
such  as  it  may  be,  was  made  here,  not  there  ;  went  over  with 
them  from  the  Old-Puritan  English  workshop  ready-made. 
Deduct  what  they  carried  with  them  from  England  ready- 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


23 


made, — their  common  English  Language,  and  that  same  Con- 
stitution, or  rather  elixir  of  constitutions,  their  inveterate  and 
now,  as  it  were,  inborn  reverence  for  the  Constable's  Staff ; 
two  quite  immense  attainments,  which  England  had  to  spend 
much  blood,  and  valiant  sweat  of  brow  and  brain,  for  centu- 
ries long,  in  achieving  ; — and  what  new  elements  of  polity  or 
nationhood,  what  noble  new  phasis  of  human  arrangement, 
or  social  device  worthy  of  Prometheus  or  of  Epimetheus,  yet 
comes  to  light  in  America  ?  Cotton-crops  and  Indian-corn  and 
dollars  come  to  light ;  and  half  a  world  of  untilled  land,  where 
populations  that  respect  the  constable  can  live,  for  the  present 
without  Government :  this  comes  to  light ;  and  the  profound 
sorrow  of  all  nobler  hearts,  here  uttering  itself  as  silent  pa- 
tient unspeakable  ennui,  there  coming  out  as  vague  elegiac 
wailings,  that  there  is  still  next  to  nothing  more.  '  Anarchy 
plus  a  street-constable  : '  that  also  is  anarchic  to  me,  and  other 
than  quite  lovely  ! 

I  foresee,  too,  that,  long  before  the  waste  lands  are  full,  the 
very  street-constable,  on  these  poor  terms,  will  have  become 
impossible  :  without  the  waste  lands,  as  here  in  our  Europe,  I 
do  not  see  how  he  could  continue  possible  many  weeks. 
Cease  to  brag  to  me  of  America,  and  its  model  institutions 
and  constitutions.  To  men  in  their  sleep  there  is  nothing 
granted  in  this  world  :  nothing,  or  as  good  as  nothing,  to  men 
that  sit  idly  caucusing  and  ballot-boxing  on  the  graves  of  their 
heroic  ancestors,  saying,  "It  is  well,  it  is  well!"  Corn  and 
bacon  are  granted  :  not  a  very  sublime  boon,  on  such  condi- 
tions; a  boon  moreover  which,  on  such  conditions,  cannot 
last !  No  :  America  too  will  have  to  strain  its  energies,  in 
quite  other  fashion  than  this  ;  to  crack  its  sinews,  and  ail-but 
break  its  heart,  as  the  rest  of  us  have  had  to  do,  in  thousand- 
fold wrestle  with  the  Pythons  and  mud- demons,  before  it  can 
become  a  habitation  for  the  gods.  America's  battle  is  yet  to 
fight  ;  and  we,  sorrowful  though  nothing  doubting,  will  wish 
her  strength  for  it.  New  Spiritual  Pythons,  plenty  of  them 
enormous  Megatherions,  as  ugly  as  were  ever  born  of  mud, 
loom  huge  and  hideous  out  of  the  twilight  Future  on  America  ; 
and  she  will  have  her  own  agony,  and  her  own  victory,  but  on 


24 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


other  terms  than  she  is  yet  quite  aware  of.  Hitherto  she  but 
ploughs  and  hammers,  in  a  very  successful  manner  ;  hitherto, 
in  spite  of  her  '  roast-goose  with  apple-sauce,'  she  is  not  much, 
f  Roast-goose  with  apple-sauce  for  the  poorest  working-man  : ' 
well,  surely  that  is  something, — thanks  to  your  respect  for  the 
street-constable,  and  to  your  continents  of  fertile  waste  land  ; 
— but  that,  even  if  it  could  continue,  is  by  no  means  enough  ; 
that  is  not  even  an  instalment  towards  what  will  be  required 
of  you.  My  friend,  brag  not  yet  of  our  American  cousins  ! 
Their  quantity  of  cotton,  dollars,  industry  and  resources,  I 
believe  to  be  almost  unspeakable  ;  but  I  can  by  no  means  wor- 
ship the  like  of  these.  What  great  human  soul,  what  great 
thought,  what  great  noble  thing  that  one  could  worship,  or 
loyally  admire,  has  yet  been  produced  there  ?  None  :  the 
American  cousins  have  yet  done  none  of  these  things.  "  What 
have  they  done  ?  "  growls  Smelfungus,  tired  of  the  subject  : 
"  They  have  doubled  their  population  every  twenty  years. 
They  have  begotten,  with  a  rapidity  beyond  recorded  exam- 
ple, Eighteen  Millions  of  the  greatest  bores  ever  seen  in  this 
world  before, — that  hitherto  is  their  feat  in  History  !  " — And 
so  we  leave  them,  for  the  present  ;  and  cannot  predict  the 
success  of  Democracy,  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  from  their 
example. 

Alas,  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  and  on  that,  Democracy, 
we  apprehend,  is  forever  impossible  !  So  much,  with  certainty 
of  loud  astonished  contradiction  from  all  manner  of  men  at 
present,  but  with  sure  appeal  to  the  Law  of  Nature  and  the 
ever-abiding  Fact,  may  be  suggested  and  asserted  once  more. 
The  Universe  itself  is  a  Monarchy  and  Hierarchy  ;  large  liberty 
of  '  voting '  there,  all  manner  of  choice,  utmost  free-will,  but 
with  conditions  inexorable  and  immeasurable  annexed  to  every 
exercise  of  the  same.  A  most  free  commonwealth  of  '  voters  ; 1 
but  with  Eternal  Justice  to  preside  over  it,  Eternal  Justice 
enforced  by  Almighty  Power  !  This  is  the  model  of  '  consti- 
tutions ;'  this  :  nor  in  any  Nation  where  there  has  not  yet  (in 
some  supportable  and  withal  some  constantly-increasing  de- 
gree) been  confided  to  the  Nobled,  with  his  select  series  of 
Nobler,  the  divine  everlasting  duty  of  directing  and  controlling 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


25 


the  Ignoble,  has  the  1  Kingdom  of  God,'  which  we  all  pray 
for,  '  come,'  nor  can  '  His  will '  ever  tend  to  be  1  done  on  Earth 
as  it  is  in  Heaven '  till  then.  My  Christian  friends,  and  in- 
deed my  Sham-Christian  and  Anti-Christian,  and  all  manner 
of  men,  are  invited  to  reflect  on  this.  They  will  find  it  to  be 
the  truth  of  the  case.  The  Noble  in  the  high  place,  the  Igno- 
ble in  the  low  ;  that  is,  in  all  times  and  in  all  countries,  the 
Almighty  Maker's  Law. 

To  raise  the  Sham-Noblest,  and  solemnly  consecrate  him  by 
whatever  method,  new-devised,  or  slavishly  adhered  to  from 
old  wont,  this,  little  as  we  may  regard  it,  is,  in  all  times  and 
countries,  a  practical  blasphemy,  and  Nature  will  in  no  wise 
forget  it.  Alas,  there  lies  the  origin,  the  fatal  necessity,  of 
modern  Democracy  everywhere.  It  is  the  Noblest,  not  the 
Sham-Noblest ;  it  is  God-Almighty's  Noble,  not  the  Court- 
Tailor's  Noble,  nor  the  Able-Editor's  Noble,  that  must  in  some 
approximate  degree,  be  raised  to  the  supreme  place  ;  he  and 
not  a  counterfeit, — under  penalties  !  Penalties  deep  as  death, 
and  at  length  terrible  as  hell-on-earth,  my  constitutional  friend ! 
— Will  the  ballot-box  raise  the  Noblest  to  the  chief  place  ;  does 
any  sane  man  deliberately  believe  such  a  thing  ?  That  never- 
theless is  the  indispensable  result,  attain  it  how  we  may :  if 
that  is  attained,  all  is  attained  ;  if  not  that,  nothing.  He  that 
cannot  believe  the  ballot-box  to  be  attaining  it,  will  be  com- 
paratively indifferent  to  the  ballot-box.  Excellent  for  keep- 
ing the  ship's  crew  at  peace  under  their  Phantasm  Captain  ; 
but  unserviceable,  under  such,  for  getting  round  Cape  Horn. 
Alas,  that  there  should  be  human  beings  requiring  to  have 
these  things  argued  of,  at  this  late  time  of  day  ! 

I  say,  it  is  the  everlasting  privilege  of  the  foolish  to  be  gov-. 
erned  by  the  wise  ;  to  be  guided  in  the  right  path  by  those 
who  know  it  better  than  they.  This  is  the  first  '  right  of 
man  ;'  compared  with  which  all  other  rights  are  as  nothing, — 
mere  superfluities,  corollaries  which  will  follow  of  their  own 
accord  out  of  this  ;  if  they  be  not  contradictions  to  this,  and 
less  than  nothing!  To  the  wise  it  is  not  a  privilege  ;  far 
other  indeed.  Doubtless,  as  bringing  preservation  to  their 
country,  it  implies  preservation  of  themselves  withal ;  but  in- 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


trinsically  it  is  the  harshest  duty  a  wise  man,  if  he  be  indeed 
wise,  has  laid  to  his  hand.  A  duty  which  he  would  fain 
enough  shirk  ;  which  accordingly,  in  these  sad  times  of  doubt 
and  cowardly  sloth,  he  has  long  everywhere  been  endeavour- 
ing to  reduce  to  its  minimum,  and  has  in  fact  in  most  cases 
nearly  escaped  altogether.  It  is  an  ungovemed  world  ;  a 
world  which  we  natter  ourselves  will  henceforth  need  no  gov- 
erning. On  the  dust  of  our  heroic  ancestors  we  too  sit  ballot- 
boxing,  saying  to  one  another,  It  is  well,  it  is  well !  By  in- 
heritance of  their  noble  struggles,  we  have  been  permitted  to 
sit  slothful  so  long.  By  noble  toil,  not  by  shallow  laughter 
and  vain  talk,  they  made  this  English  Existence  from  a  savage 
forest  into  an  arable  inhabitable  field  for  us  ;  and  we,  idly 
dreaming  it  would  grow  spontaneous  crops  forever, — find  it 
now  in  a  too  questionable  state  ;  peremptorily  requiring  real 
labour  and  agriculture  again.  Ileal  '  agriculture '  is  not 
pleasant ;  much  pleasanter  to  reap  and  winnow  (with  ballot- 
box  or  otherwise)  than  to  plough  ! 

Who  would  govern  that  can  get  along  without  governing  ? 
He  that  is  fittest  for  it,  is  of  all  men  the  unwillingest  unless 
constrained.  By  multifarious  devices  we  have  been  endeav- 
ouring to  dispense  with  governing  ;  and  by  very  superficial 
speculations,  of  laissez-faire,  supply-and-demand,  &c.  &c.  to 
persuade  ourselves  that  it  is  best  so.  The  Heal  Captain,  un- 
less it  be  some  Captain  of  mechanical  Industry  hired  by 
Mammon,  where  is  he  in  these  days  ?  Most  likely,  in  silence, 
in  sad  isolation  somewhere,  in  remote  obscurity  ;  trying  if,  in 
an  evil  ungoverned  time,  he  cannot  at  least  govern  himself. 
The  Beal  Captain  undiscoverable ;  the  Phantasm  Captain 
everywhere  very  conspicuous  : — it  is  thought  Phantasm  Cap- 
tains, aided  by  ballot-boxes,  are  the  true  method,  after  all. 
They  are  much  the  pleasantest  for  the  time  being !  And  so 
no  Dux  or  Duke  of  any  sort,  in  any  province  of  our  affairs, 
now  leads  :  the  Duke's  Bailiff  leads,  what  little  leading  is  re- 
quired for  gotting-in  the  rents  ;  and  the  Duke  merely  rides  in 
the  state-coach.  It  is  everywhere  so  :  and  now  at  last  we  see 
a  world  all  rushing  towards  strange  consummations,  because 
it  is  and  has  long  been  so  ! 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


27 


I  do  not  suppose  any  reader  of  mine,  or  many  persons  in 
England  at  all,  have  much  faith  in  Fraternity,  Equality  and 
the  Revolutionary  Millenniums  preached  by  the  French 
Prophets  in  this  age  :  but  there  are  many  movements  here 
too  which  tend  inevitably  in  the  like  direction  ;  and  good 
men,  who  would  stand  aghast  at  Red  Republic  and  its  adjuncts, 
seem  to  me  travelling  at  full  speed  towards  that  or  a  similar 
goal !  Certainly  the  notion  everywhere  prevails  among  us  too, 
and  preaches  itself  abroad  in  every  dialect,  uncontradicted  any- 
where so  far  as  I  can  hear,  That  the  grand  panacea  for  social 
woes  is  what  wTe  call  '  enfranchisement,'  '  emancipation  ; '  or, 
translated  into  practical  language,  the  cutting  asunder  of  hu- 
man relations,  wherever  they  are  found  grievous,  as  is  like  to 
be  pretty  universally  the  case  at  the  rate  we  have  been  going 
for  some  generations  past.  Let  us  all  be  '  free '  of  one  another ; 
we  shall  then  be  happy.  Free,  without  bond  or  connection 
except  that  of  cash-payment ;  fair  day's  wages  for  the  fair  day's 
work  ;  bargained  for  by  voluntary  contract,  and  law  of  supply- 
and-demand  :  this  is  thought  to  be  the  true  solution  of  all  dif- 
ficulties and  injustices  that  have  occurred  betweeen  man  and 
man. 

To  rectify  the  relation  that  exists  between  two  men,  is  there 
no  method,  then,  but  that  of  ending  it  ?  The  old  relation  has 
become  unsuitable,  obsolete,  perhaps  unjust ;  it  imperatively 
requires  to  be  amended ;  and  the  remedy  is,  Abolish  it,  let 
there  henceforth  be  no  relation  at  all.  From  the  '  Sacrament 
of  Marriage  '  downwards,  human  beings  used  to  be  manifoldly 
related,  one  to  another,  and  each  to  all  ;  and  there  was  no  re- 
lation among  human  beings,  just  or  unjust,  that  had  not  its 
grievances  and  difficulties,  its  necessities  on  both  sides  to  bear 
and  forbear.  But  henceforth,  be  it  known,  we  have  changed 
all  that,  by  favour  of  Heaven  :  '  the  voluntary  principle'  has 
come-up,  which  will  itself  do  the  business  for  us  ;  and  now  let 
a  new  Sacrament,  that  of  Divorce,  which  we  call  emancipa- 
tion, and  spout-of  on  our  platforms,  be  universally  the  order 
of  the  day  ! — Have  men  considered  whither  all  this  is  tending, 
and  what  it  certainly  enough  betokens  ?  Cut  every  human  re- 
lation which  has  anywhere  grown  uneasy  sheer  asunder  ;  re- 


23 


LATTER-DA  Y  PAMPHLETS. 


cluce  whatsoever  was  compulsory  to  voluntary,  whatsoever  was 
permanent  among  us  to  the  condition  of  nomadic  : — in  other 
words,  loosen  by  assiduous  wedges  in  every  joint,  the  whole 
fabric  of  social  existence,  stone  from  stone  ;  till  at  last,  all  now 
being  loose  enough,  it  can,  as  we  already  see  in  most  countries, 
be  overset  by  sudden  outburst  of  revolutionary  rage  ;  and,  lying 
as  mere  mountains  of  anarchic  rubbish,  solicit  you  to  sing 
Fraternity  &c.  over  it,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  new  remarkable 
era  of  human  progress  we  have  arrived  at. 

Certainly  Emancipation  proceeds  with  rapid  strides  among 
us,  this  good  while  ;  and  has  got  to  such  a  length  as  might 
give  rise  to  reflections  in  men  of  a  serious  turn.  West-Indian 
Blacks  are  emancipated,  and  it  appears  refuse  to  work  :  Irish 
Whites  have  long  been  entirely  emancipated  ;  and  nobody  asks 
them  to  work,  or  on  condition  of  finding  them  potatoes  (which, 
of  course,  is  indispensable),  permits  them  to  work. — Among 
speculative  persons,  a  question  has  sometimes  risen  :  In  the 
progress  of  Emancipation,  are  we  to  look  for  a  time  when  all 
the  Horses  also  are  to  be  emancipated,  and  brought  to  the 
supply-and-demand  principle  ?  Horses  to  have  '  motives  ; '  are 
acted-on  by  hunger,  fear,  hope,  love  of  oats,  terror  of  platted 
leather ;  nay  they  have  vanity,  ambition,  emulation,  thankful- 
ness, vindictiveness ;  some  rude  outline  of  all  our  human  spir- 
itualities,— a  rude  resemblance  to  us  in  mind  and  intelligence, 
even  as  they  have  in  bodily  frame.  The  Horse,  poor  dumb 
four-footed  fellow,  he  too  has  his  private  feelings,  his  affec- 
tions, gratitudes  ;  and  deserves  good  usage  ;  no  human  master, 
without  crime,  shall  treat  him  unjustly  either,  or  recklessly 
lay-on  the  whip  where  it  is  not  needed  : — I  am  sure  if  I  could 
make  him  '  happy,'  I  should  be  willing  to  grant  a  small  vote 
(in  addition  to  the  late  twenty  millions)  for  that  object ! 

Him  too  you  occasionally  tyrannise  over  ;  and  with  bad  re- 
sult to  yourselves,  among  others  ;  using  the  leather  in  a  tyran- 
nous unnecessary  manner ;  withholding,  or  scantily  furnishing, 
the  oats  and  ventilated  stabling  that  are  due.  Hugged  horse- 
subduers,  one  fears  they  are  a  little  tyrannous  at  times.  "  Am 
I  not  a  horse,  and  /i«//Lbrother  ?  " — To  remedy  which,  so  far 
as  remediable,  fancy — the  horses  all  'emancipated;'  restored 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


29 


to  their  primeval  right  of  property  in  the  grass  of  this  Globe : 
turned-out  to  graze  in  an  independent  supply-and-demand 
manner  !  So  long  as  grass  lasts,  I  dare  say  they  are  very  happy, 
or  think  themselves  so.  And  Farmer  Hodge  sallying  forth, 
on  a  dry  spring  morning,  with  a  sieve  of  oats  in  his  hand,  and 
agony  of  eager  expectation  in  his  heart,  is  he  happy  ?  Help 
me  to  plough  this  day,  Black  Dobbin  :  oats  in  full  measure  if 
thou  wilt.  "  Hlunh,  No — thank  !  "  snorts  Black  Dobbin  ;  he 
prefers  glorious  liberty  and  the  grass.  Bay  Darby,  wilt  not 
thou  perhaps?  "  Hlunh!" — Gray  Joan,  then,  my  beautful 
broad-bottomed  mare, — O  Heaven,  she  too  answers  Hlunh ! 
Not  a  quadruped  of  them  will  plough  a  stroke  for  me.  Corn- 
crops  are  ended  in  this  world  ! — For  the  sake,  if  not  of  Hodge, 
then  of  Hodge's  horses,  one  prays  this  benevolent  practice 
might  now  cease,  and  a  new  and  better  one  try  to  begin. 
Small  kindness  to  Hodge's  horses  to  emancipate  them  !  The 
fate  of  all  emancipated  horses  is,  sooner  or  later,  inevitable. 
To  have  in  this  habitable  Earth  no  grass  to  eat, — in  Black 
Jamaica  gradually  none,  as  in  White  Connemara  already  none  ; 
— to  roam  aimless,  wasting  the  seed-fields  of  the  world  ;  and 
be  hunted  home  to  Chaos,  by  the  due  watch-dogs  and  due 
hell-dogs,  with  such  horrors  of  forsaken  wretchedness  as  were 
never  seen  before  !  These  things  are  not  sport ;  they  are  ter- 
ribly true,  in  this  country  at  this  hour. 

Between  our  Black  West  Indies  and  our  White  Ireland,  be- 
tween these  two  extremes  of  lazy  refusal  to  work,  and  of  fam- 
ishing inability  to  find  any  work,  what  a  world  have  we  made 
of  it,  with  our  fierce  Mammon-worships,  and  our  benevolent 
philanderings,  and  idle  godless  nonsenses  of  one  kind  and 
another  !  Supply-and-demand,  Leave-it-alone,  Voluutary  Prin- 
ciple, Time  will  mend  it : — till  British  industrial  existence 
seems  fast  becoming  one  huge  poison-swamp  of  reeking  pesti- 
lence physical  and  moral ;  a  hideous  living  Golgotha  of  souls 
and  bodies  buried  alive  ;  such  a  Curtius'  gulf,  communicating 
with  the  Nether  Deeps,  as  the  Sun  never  saw  till  now.  These 
scenes,  which  the  Morning  Chronicle  is  bringing  home  to  all 
minds  of  men, — thanks  to  it  for  a  service  such  as  Newspapers 
have  seldom  done, — ought  to  excite  unspeakable  reflections  in 


so 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


every  mind.  Thirty-thousand  outcast  Needlewomen  working 
themselves  swiftly  to  death  ;  three-million  Paupers  rotting  in 
forced  idleness,  helping  said  Needlewomen  to  die :  these  are 
but  items  in  the  sad  ledger  of  despair. 

Thirty-thousand  wretched  women,  sunk  in  that  putrefying 
well  of  abominations  ;  they  have  oozed-in  upon  London,  from 
the  universal  Stygian  quagmire  of  British  industrial  life  ;  are 
accumulated  in  the  well  of  the  concern,  to  that  extent.  Brit- 
ish charity  is  smitten  to  the  heart,  at  the  laying-bare  of  such 
a  scene  ;  passionately  undertakes,  by  enormous  subscription 
of  money,  or  by  other  enormous  effort,  to  redress  that  individ- 
ual horror  ;  as  I  and  all  men  hope  it  may.  But,  alas,  what 
next?  This  general  well  and  cesspool  once  baled  clean  out 
today,  will  begin  before  night  to  fill  itself  anew.  The  univer- 
sal Stygian  quagmire  is  still  there  ;  opulent  in  women  ready 
to  be  ruined,  and  in  men  ready.  Towards  the  same  sad  cess- 
pool will  these  waste  currents  of  human  ruin  ooze  and  gravi- 
tate as  heretofore  ;  except  in  draining  the  universal  quagmire 
itself  there  is  no  remedy.  "And  for  that,  what  is  the 
method  ?  "  cry  many  in  an  angry  manner.  To  whom,  for  the 
present,  I  answer  only,  "Not  'emancipation,'  it  would  seem, 
my  friends  ;  not  the  cutting-loose  of  human  ties,  something 
far  the  reverse  of  that !  " 

Many  things  have  been  written  about  shirtmaking  ;  but 
here  perhaps  is  the  saddest  thing  of  all,  not  written  anywhere 
till  now,  that  I  know  of.  Shirts  by  the  thirty-thousand  are 
made  at  twopence-halfpenny  each  ; — and  in  the  mean  while 
no  needlewoman,  distressed  or  other,  can  be  procured  in  Lon- 
don by  any  housewife  to  give,  for  fair  wages,  fair  help  in  sew- 
ing. Ask  any  thrifty  house-mother,  high  or  low,  and  she  will 
answer.  In  high  houses  and  in  low,  there  is  the  same  answer  : 
no  real  needlewoman,  '  distressed '  or  other,  has  been  found 
attainable  in  any  of  the  houses  I  frequent.  Imaginary  needle- 
women, who  demand  considerable  wages,  and  have  a  deepish 
appetite  for  beer  and  viands,  I  hear  of  everywhere  ;  but  their 
sewing  proves  too  often  a  distracted  puckering  and  botching  ; 
not  sewing,  only  the  fallacious  hope  of  it,  a  fond  imagination 
of  the  mind.    Good  sempstresses  are  to  be  hired  in  every  vil- 


THE  PRESENT  TIME, 


31 


lage  ;  and  in  London,  with  its  famishing  thirty-thousand,  not 
at  all,  or  hardly. — Is  not  No-government  beautiful  in  human 
business?  To  such  length  has  the  Leave-alone  principle  car- 
ried it,  by  way  of  organising  labour,  in  this  affair  of  shirtmak- 
ing.  Let  us  hope  the  Leave-alone  principle  has  now  got  its 
apotheosis  ;  and  taken  wing  towards  higher  regions  than  ours, 
to  deal  henceforth  with  a  class  of  affairs  more  appropriate 
for  it ! 

Header,  did  you  ever  hear  of  '  Constituted  Anarchy  '  ?  An- 
archy ;  the  choking,  sweltering,  deadly  and  killing  rule  of  No- 
rule  ;  the  consecration  of  cupidity,  and  braying  folly,  and  dim 
stupidity  and  baseness,  in  most  of  the  affairs  of  men  ?  Slop- 
shirts  attainable  three-halfpence  cheaper,  by  the  ruin  of  living 
bodies  and  immortal  souls  ?  Solemn  Bishops  and  high  Dig- 
nitaries, our  divine  'Pillars  of  fire  by  night,'  debating  mean- 
while, with  their  largest  wigs  and  gravest  look,  upon  something 
they  call  '  prevenient  grace  '  ?  Alas,  our  noble  men  of  genius, 
Heaven's  real  messengers  to  us,  they  also  rendered  nearly  fu- 
tile by  the  wasteful  time  ; — preappointed  they  everywhere,  and 
assiduously  trained  by  all  their  pedagogues  and  monitors,  to 
*  rise  in  Parliament,'  to  compose  orations,  write  books,  or  in 
short  speak  words,  for  the  approval  of  reviewers  ;  instead  of 
doing  real  kingly  work  to  be  approved  of  by  the  gods  !  Our 
'  Government,'  a  highly  '  responsible  '  one  ;  responsible  to  no 
God-  that  I  can  hear  of,  but  to  the  twenty-seven  million  gods 
of  the  shilling  gallery.  A  Government  tumbling  and  drifting 
on  the  whirlpools  and  mud-deluges,  floating  atop  in  a  con- 
spicuous manner,  no-whither, — like  the  carcass  of  a  drowned 
ass.  Authentic  Chaos  come  up  into  this  sunny  Cosmos  again  ; 
and  all  men  singing  Gloria  in  excelsis  to  it.  In  spirituals  and 
temporals,  in  field  and  workshop,  from  Manchester  to  Dor- 
setshire, from  Lambeth  Palace  to  the  Lanes  of  Whitechapel, 
wherever  men  meet  and  toil  and  traffic  together, — Anarchy, 
Anarchy ;  and  only  the  street-constable  (though  with  ever- 
increasing  difficulty)  still  maintaining  himself  in  the  middle  of 
it  ;  that  so,  for  one  thing,  this  blessed  exchange  of  slop-shirts 
for  the  souls  of  women  may  transact  itself  in  a  peaceable  man- 
ner ! — I,  for  my  part,  do  profess  myself  in  eternal  opposition 


32 


LATTER-BAY  TAMPHLETS. 


to  this,  and  discern  well  that  universal  Kuin  has  us  in  the 
wind,  unless  we  can  get  out  of  this.  My  friend  Crabbe,  in  a 
late  number  of  his  Intermittent  Radiator,  pertinently  enough 
exclaims  : 

'  When  shall  we  have  done  with  all  this  of  British  Liberty, 
Voluntary  Principle,  Dangers  of  Centralisation,  and  the  like  ? 
It  is  really  getting  too  bad.  For  British  Liberty,  it  seems,  the 
people  cannot  be  taught  to  read.  British  Liberty,  shudder- 
ing to  interfere  with  the  rights  of  capital,  takes  six  or  eight 
millions  of  money  annually  to  feed  the  idle  labourer  whom  it 
dare  not  employ.  For  British  Liberty  we  live  over  poisonous 
cesspools,  gully-drains,  and  detestable  abominations  ;  and  om- 
nipotent London  cannot  sweep  the  dirt  out  of  itself.  British 
Liberty  produces — what  ?  Floods  of  Hansard  Debates  every 
year,  and  apparently  little  else  at  present.  If  these  are  the 
results  of  British  Liberty,  I,  for  one,  move  we  should  lay  it 
on  the  shelf  a  little,  and  look-out  for  something  other  and  far- 
ther. We  have  achieved  British  Liberty  hundreds  of  years 
ago  ;  and  are  fast  growing,  on  the  strength  of  it,  one  of  the 
most  absurd  populations  the  Sun,  among  his  great  Museum 
of  Absurdities,  looks  down  upon  at  present.' 

Curious  enough  :  the  model  of  the  world  just  now  is  Eng- 
land and  her  Constitution  ;  all  Nations  striving  towards  it : 
2^oor  France  swimming  these  last  sixty  years  in  seas  of  horrid 
dissolution  and  confusion,  resolute  to  attain  this  blessedness 
of  free  voting,  or  to  die  in  chase  of  it.  Prussia  too,  solid 
Germany  itself,  has  all  broken  out  into  crackling  of  musketry, 
loud  pamphleteering  and  Frankfort  pariiamenting  and  palaver- 
ing ;  Germany  too  will  scale  the  sacred  mountains,  how  steep 
soever,  and,  by  talisman  of  ballot-box,  inhabit  a  political  Ely- 
sium henceforth.  All  the  Nations  have  that  one  hope.  Very 
notable,  and  rather  sad  to  the  humane  onlooker.  For  it  is 
sadly  conjectured,  all  the  Nations  labour  somewhat  under  a 
mistake  as  to  England,  and  the  causes  of  her  freedom  and  her 
prosperous  cotton-spinning  ;  and  have  much  misread  the  nat- 
ure of  her  Parliament,  and  the  effect  of  ballot-boxes  and  uni- 
versal-suffrages there. 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


33 


What  if  it  were  because  the  English  Parliament  was  from 
the  first,  and  is  only  just  now  ceasing  to  be,  a  Council  of  actual 
Rulers,  real  Governing  Persons  (called  Peers,  Mitred  Abbots, 
Lords,  Knights  of  the  Shire,  or  howsoever  called),  actually 
ruling  each  his  section  of  the  country, — and  possessing  (it 
must  be  said)  in  the  lump,  or  when  assembled  as  a  Council, 
uncommon  patience,  devoutness,  probity,  discretion  and  good 
fortune, — that  the  said  Parliament  ever  came  to  be  good  for 
much  ?  In  that  case  it  will  not  be  easy  to  '  imitate  '  the  Eng- 
lish Parliament ;  and  the  ballot-box  and  suffrage  will  be  the 
mere  bow  of  Robin  Hood,  which  it  is  given  to  very  few  to 
bend,  or  shoot  with  to  any  perfection.  And  if  the  Peers  be- 
come mere  big  Capitalists,  Railway  Directors,  gigantic  Huck- 
sters, Kings  of  Scrip,  without  lordly  quality,  or  other  virtue 
except  cash  ;  and  the  Mitred  Abbots  change  to  mere  Able- 
Editors,  masters  of  Parliamentary  Eloquence,  Doctors  of  Po- 
litical Economy,  and  suchlike  ;  and  all  have  to  be  elected  by 
a  universal-suffrage  ballot-box, — I  do  not  see  how  the  Eng- 
lish Parliament  itself  will  long  continue  sea-worthy  !  Nay,  I 
find  England  in  her  own  big  dumb  heart,  wherever  you  come 
upon  her  in  a  silent  meditative  hour,  begins  to  have  dreadful 
misgivings  about  it. 

The  model  of  the  world,  then,  is  at  once  unattainable  by 
the  world,  and  not  much  worth  attaining  ?  England,  as  I 
read  the  omens,  is  now  called  a  second  time  to  '  show  the  Na- 
tions how  to  live  ; '  for  by  her  Parliament,  as  chief  governing 
entity,  I  fear  she  is  not  long  for  this  world  !  Poor  England 
must  herself  again,  in  these  new  strange  times,  the  old  meth- 
ods being  quite  worn  out,  'learn  how  to  live.'  That  now  is 
the  terrible  problem  for  England,  as  for  all  the  Nations  ;  and 
she  alone  of  all,  not  yet  sunk  into  open  Anarchy,  but  left  with 
time  for  repentance  and  amendment ;  she,  wealthiest  of  all  in 
material  resource,  in  spiritual  energy,  in  ancient  loyalty  to 
law,  and  in  the  qualities  that  yield  such  loyalty, — she  perhaps 
alone  of  all  may  be  able,  with  huge  travail,  and  the  strain  of 
all  her  faculties,  to  accomplish  some  solution.  She  will  have 
to  try  it,  she  has  now  to  try  it  ;  she  must  accomplish  it,  or 
perish  from  her  place  in  the  world  ! 
3 


34 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


England,  as  I  persuade  myself,  still  contains  in  it  many 
kings  ;  possesses,  as  Old  Rome  did,  many  men  not  needing 
'  election '  to  command,  but  eternally  elected  for  it  by  the 
Maker  Himself.  England's  one  hope  is  in  these,  just  now. 
They  are  among  the  silent,  I  believe ;  mostly  far  away  from 
platforms  and  public  palaverings ;  not  speaking  forth  the 
image  of  their  nobleness  in  transitory  words,  but  imprinting 
it,  each  on  his  own  little  section  of  the  world,  in  silent  facts, 
in  modest  valiant  actions,  that  will  endure  forevermore.  They 
must  sit  silent  no  longer.  They  are  summoned  to  assert 
themselves  ;  to  act  forth,  and  articulately  vindicate,  in  the 
teeth  of  howling  multitudes,  of  a  world  too  justly  maddened 
into  all  manner  of  delirious  clamours,  what  of  wisdom  they 
derive  from  God.  England,  and  the  Eternal  Voices,  summon 
them  ;  poor  England  never  so  needed  them  as  now.  Up,  be 
doing  everywhere  :  the  hour  of  crisis  has  verily  come  !  In  all 
sections  of  English  life,  the  god-made  king  is  needed  ;  is 
pressingly  demanded  in  most  ;  in  some,  cannot  longer,  with- 
out peril  as  of  conflagration,  be  dispensed  with.  He,  where- 
soever he  finds  himself,  can  say,  "  Here  too  am  I  wanted  ; 
here  is  the  kingdom  I  have  to  subjugate,  and  introduce  God's 
Laws  into, — God's  Laws,  instead  of  Mammon's  and  M'Croudy's 
and  the  Old  Anarch's  !  Here  is  my  work,  here  or  nowhere." 
 Are  there  many  such,  who  will  answer  to  the  call,  in  Eng- 
land ?  It  turns  on  that,  whether  England,  rapidly  crumbling 
in  these  very  years  and  months,  shall  go  down  to  the  Abyss 
as  her  neighbours  have  all  done,  or  survive  to  new  grander 
destinies  without  solution  of  continuity  !  Probably  the  chief 
question  of  the  world  at  present. 

The  true  'commander'  and  king;  he  who  knows  for  him- 
self the  divine  Appointments  of  this  Universe,  the  Eternal 
Laws  ordained  by  God  the  Maker,  in  conforming  to  which 
lies  victory  and  felicity,  in  departing  from  which  lies,  and 
forever  must  lie,  sorrow  and  defeat,  for  each  and  all  of  the 
Posterity  of  Adam  in  every  time  and  every  place  ;  he  who  has 
sworn  fealty  to  these,  and  dare  alone  against  the  world  assert 
these,  and  dare  not  with  the  whole  world  at  his  back  deflect 
from  these  ; — he,  I  know  too  well,  is  a  rare  man.    Difficult  to 


THE  PRttblSJXT  TIM  IS, 


<56 


discover ;  not  quite  discoverable,  I  apprehend,  by  manoeu- 
vring of  ballot-boxes,  and  riddling  of  the  popular  clamour 
according  to  the  most  approved  methods.  He  is  not  sold  at 
any  shop  I  know  of, — though  sometimes,  as  at  the  sign  of  the 
Ballot-box,  he  is  advertised  for  sale.  Difficult  indeed  to  dis- 
cover :  and  not  very  much  assisted,  or  encouraged  in  late 
times,  to  discover  himself ; — which,  I  think,  might  be  a  kind 
of  help  ?  Encouraged  rather,  and  commanded  in  all  ways,  if 
he  be  wise,  to  hide  himself,  and  give  place  to  the  windy  Coun- 
terfeit of  himself ;  such  as  the  universal-suffrages  can  recog- 
nise, such  as  loves  the  most  sweet  voices  of  the  universal- 
suffrages  ! — O  Peter,  what  becomes  of  such  a  People  ;  what 
can  become  ? 

Did  you  never  hear,  with  the  mind's  ear  as  well,  that  fate- 
ful Hebrew  Prophecy,  I  think  the  fatefullest  of  all,  which 
sounds  daily  through  the  streets,  "  Ou'  clo'  !  Ou'  clo  ' !  " — A 
certain  People,  once  upon  a  time,  clamourously  voted  by  over- 
whelming majority,  "  Not  he  ;  Barabbas,  not  he  !  Him,  and 
what  he  is,  and  what  he  deserves,  we  know  well  enough  :  a 
reviler  of  the  Chief  Priests  and  sacred  Chancery  wigs  ;  a  sedi- 
tious Heretic,  physical-force  Chartist,  and  enemy  of  his  coun- 
try and  mankind  :  To  the  gallows  and  the  cross  with  him  ! 
Barabbas  is  our  man  ;  Barabbas,  we  are  for  Barabbas  !  "  They 
got  Barabbas  : — have  you  well  considered  what  a  fund  of  pur- 
blind obduracy,  of  opaque  flunkyism  grown  truculent  and 
transcendent ;  what  an  eye  for  the  phylacteries,  and  want  of 
eye  for  the  eternal  noblenesses  ;  sordid  loyalty  to  the  pros- 
perous Semblances,  and  high-treason  against  the  Supreme 
Fact,  such  a  vote  betokens  in  these  natures  ?  For  it  was  the 
consummation  of  a  long  series  of  such  ;  they  and  their  fathers 
had  long  kept  voting  so.  A  singular  People  ;  who  could  both 
produce  such  divine  men,  and  then  could  so  stone  and  cru- 
cify them  ;  a  People  terrible  from  the  beginning  ! — Well,  they 
got  Barabbas  ;  and  they  got,  of  course,  such  guidance  as 
Barabbas  and  the  like  of  him  could  give  them  ;  and,  of 
course,  they  stumbled  ever  downwards  and  devilwards,  in 
their  truculent  stifmecked  way  ;  and — and,  at  this  hour,  after 
eighteen  centuries  of  sad  fortune,  they  prophetically  sing 


36 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


"  Ou'  clo' !  "  in  all  the  cities  of  the  world.  Might  the  world, 
at  this  late  hour,  but  take  note  of  them,  and  understand  their 
song  a  little  ! 

Yes,  there  are  some  things  the  universal-suffrage  can  decide, 
— and  about  these  it  will  be  exceedingly  useful  to  consult  the 
universal-suffrage  :  but  in  regard  to  most  things  of  impor- 
tance, and  in  regard  to  the  choice  of  men  especially,  there  is 
(astonishing  as  it  may  seem)  next  to  no  capability  on  the  part 
of  universal-suffrage. — I  request  all  candid  persons,  who  have 
never  so  little  originality  of  mind,  and  every  man  has  a  little, 
to  consider  this.  If  true,  it  involves  such  a  change  in  our 
now-fashionable  modes  of  procedure  as  fills  me  with  astonish- 
ment and  alarm.  If  popular  suffrage  is  not  the  way  of  ascer- 
taining what  the  Laws  of  the  Universe  are,  and  who  it  is  that 
will  best  guide  us  in  the  way  of  these, — then  woe  is  to  us  if 
we  do  not  take  another  method.  Delolme  on  the  British  Con- 
stitution will  not  save  us  ;  deaf  will  the  Parcre  be  to  votes  of  the 
House,  to  leading-articles,  constitutional  philosophies.  The 
other  method — alas,  it  involves  a  stopping  short,  or  vital 
change  of  direction,  in  the  glorious  career  which  all  Europe, 
with  shouts  heaven-high,  is  now  galloping  along  :  and  that, 
happen  when  it  may,  will,  to  many  of  us,  be  probably  a  rather 
surprising  business  ! 

One  thing  I  do  know,  and  can  again  assert  with  great  con- 
fidence, supported  by  the  whole  Universe,  and  by  some  Two- 
hundred  generations  of  men,  who  have  left  us  some  record  of 
themselves  there,  That  the  few  Wise  will  have,  by  one  method 
or  another,  to  take  command  of  the  innumerable  Foolish  ;  that 
they  must  be  got  to  take  it ; — and  that,  in  fact,  since  Wisdom, 
which  means  also  Valour  and  heroic  Nobleness,  is  alone 
strong  in  this  world,  and  one  wise  man  is  stronger  than  all 
men  unwise,  they  can  be  got.  That  they  must  take  it ;  and 
having  taken,  must  keep  it,  and  do  their  God's-Message  in  it, 
and  defend  the  same,  at  their  life's  peril,  against  all  men  and 
devils.  This  I  do  clearly  believe  to  be  the  backbone  of  all 
Future  Society,  as  it  has  been  of  all  Past ;  and  that  without 
it,  there  is  no  Society  possible  in  the  world.  And  what  a  bus- 
iness this  will  be,  beforo  it  end  in  some  degree  of  victory 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


37 


again,  and  whether  the  time  for  shouts  of  triumph  and  tre- 
mendous cheers  upon  it  is  yet  come,  or  not  yet  by  a  great 
way,  I  perceive  too  well !  A  business  to  make  us  all  very  se- 
rious indeed.  A  business  not  to  be  accomplished  but  by  noble 
manhood,  and  devout  all-daring,  all-enduring  loyalty  to  Heav- 
en, such  as  fatally  sleej)S  at  present, — such  as  is  not  dead  at 
present  either,  unless  the  gods  have  doomed  this  world  of 
theirs  to  die  !  A  business  which  long  centuries  of  faithful 
travail  and  heroic  agony,  on  the  part  of  all  the  noble  that  are 
born  to  us,  will  not  end  ;  and  which  to  us,  of  this  1  tremendous 
cheering "  century,  it  were  blessedness  very  great  to  see  suc- 
cessfully begun.  Begun,  tried  by  all  manner  of  methods,  if 
there  is  one  wise  Statesman  or  man  left  among  us,  it  verily  must 
be  ; — begun,  successfully  or  unsuccessfully,  we  do  hope  to 
see  it ! 


In  all  European  countries,  especially  in  England,  one  class 
of  Captains  and  commanders  of  men,  recognisable  as  the 
beginning  of  a  new  real  and  not  imaginary  '  Aristocracy,'  has 
already  in  some  measure  developed  itself  :  the  Captains  of 
Industry  ; — happily  the  class  who  above  all,  or  at  least  first 
of  all,  are  wanted  in  this  time.  In  the  doing  of  material  work, 
we  have  already  men  among  us  that  can  command  bodies  of 
men.  And  surely,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  lack  of  men 
needing  to  be  commanded  :  the  sad  class  of  brother-men 
whom  we  had  to  describe  as  '  Hodge's  emancipated  horses,' 
reduced  to  roving  famine, — this  too  has  in  all  countries  devel- 
oped itself  ;  and,  in  fatal  geometrical  progression,  is  ever 
more  developing  itself,  with  a  rapidity  which  alarms  every 
one.  On  this  ground,  if  not  on  all  manner  of  other  grounds, 
it  may  be  truly  said,  the  '  Organization  of  Labour  '  (not  organ- 
isable  by  the  mad  methods  tried  hitherto)  is  the  universal  vital 
Problem  of  the  world. 

To  bring  these  hordes  of  outcast  captainless  soldiers  under 
due  captaincy  ?  This  is  really  the  question  of  questions  ;  on 
the  answer  to  which  turns,  among  other  things,  the  fate  of  all 
Governments,  constitutional  and  other, — the  possibility  of 


38 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


their  continuing  to  exist,  or  the  impossibility.  Captainless, 
uncommancled,  these  wretched  outcast  '  soldiers/  since  they 
cannot  starve,  must  needs  become  banditti,  street-barricaders, 
— destroyers  of  every  Government  that  cannot  put  them  un- 
der captains,  and  send  them  upon  enterprises,  and  in  short 
render  life  human  to  them.  Our  English  plan  of  Poor  Laws, 
which  we  once  piqued  ourselves  upon  as  sovereign,  is  evi- 
dently fast  breaking  down.  Ireland,  now  admitted  into  the 
Idle  Workhouse,  is  rapidly  bursting  it  in  pieces.  That 
never  was  a  ■  human  '  destiny  for  any  honest  son  of  Adam  ; 
nowhere  but  in  England  could  it  have  lasted  at  all ;  and  now, 
with  Ireland  sharer  in  it,  and  the  fulness  of  time  come,  it 
is  as  good  as  ended.  Alas,  yes.  Here  in  Connemara,  your 
crazy  Ship  of  the  State,  otherwise  dreadfully  rotten  in  many 
of  its  timbers  I  believe,  has  sprung  a  leak  :  spite  of  all  hands 
at  the  pump,  the  water  is  rising  ;  the  Ship,  I  perceive,  will 
founder,  if  you  cannot  stop  this  leak  ! 

To  bring  these  Captainless  under  due  captaincy?  The 
anxious  thoughts  of  all  men  that  do  think  are  turned  upon 
that  question  ;  and  their  efforts,  though  as  yet  blindly  and  to 
no  purpose,  under  the  multifarious  impediments  and  obscura- 
tions, all  point  thitherward.  Isolated  men,  and  their  vague 
efforts,  cannot  do  it.  Government  everywhere  is  called  upon, 
— in  England  as  loudly  as  elsewhere, — to  give  the  initiative. 
.A  new  strange  task  of  these  new  epochs ;  which  no  Govern- 
ment, never  so  '  constitutional,'  can  escape  from  undertaking. 
For  it  is  vitally  necessary  to  the  existence  of  Society  itself  ;  it 
must  be  undertaken,  and  succeeded  in  too,  or  worse  will  fol- 
low,— and,  as  we  already  see  in  Irish  Connaught  and  some 
other  places,  will  follow  soon.  To  whatever  thing  still  calls 
itself  by  the  name  of  Government,  were  it  never  so  constitu- 
tional and  impeded  by  official  impossibilities,  all  men  will  nat- 
urally look  for  help,  and  direction  what  to  do,  in  this  extrem- 
ity. If  help  or  direction  is  not  given  ;  if  the  thing  called 
Government  merely  drift  and  tumble  to  and  fro,  no-whither 
on  the  popular  vortexes,  like  some  carcass  of  a  drowned  ass, 
constitutionally  put  'at  the  top  of  affairs,' — popular  indigna- 
tion will  infallibly  accumulate  upon  it ;  one  day,  the  popular 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


39 


lightning,  descending  forked  and  horrible  from  the  black  air, 
will  annihilate  said  supreme  carcass,  and  smite  it  home  to  its 
native  ooze  again  ! — Your  Lordship,  this  is  too  true,  though 
irreverently  spoken  :  indeed  one  knows  not  how  to  speak  of 
it ;  and  to  me  it  is  infinitely  sad  and  miserable,  spoken  or  not ! 
— Unless  perhaps  the  Voluntary  Principle  will  still  help  us 
through  ?  Perhaps  this  Irish  leak,  in  such  a  rotten  distressed 
condition  of  the  Ship,  with  all  the  crew  so  anxious  about  it, 
will  be  kind  enough  to  stop  of  itself  ? — 

Dismiss  that  hope,  your  Lordship  !  Let  all  real  and  imag- 
inary Governors  of  England,  at  the  pass  we  have  arrived  at, 
dismiss  forever  that  fallacious  fatal  solace  to  their  do-nothing- 
ism  :  of  itself,  too  clearly,  the  leak  will  never  stop  ;  by  human 
skill  and  energy  it  must  be  stopped,  or  there  is  nothing  but 
the  sea-bottom  for  us  all !  A  Chief  Governor  of  England 
really  ought  to  recognise  his  situation  ;  to  discern  that,  doing- 
nothing,  and  merely  drifting  to  and  fro,  in  however  constitu- 
tional a  manner,  he  is  a  squanderer  of  precious  moments, 
moments  that  perhaps  are  priceless  ;  a  truly  alarming  Chief 
Governor.  Surely,  to  a  Chief  Governor  of  England,  worthy 
of  that  high  name, — surely  to  him,  as  to  every  living  man,  in 
every  conceivable  situation  short  of  the  Kingdom  of  the  Dead, 
— there  is  something  possible  ;  some  plan  of  action  other  than 
that  of  standing  mildly,  with  crossed  arms,  till  he  and  we — 
sink  ?  Complex  as  his  situation  is,  he,  of  all  Governors  now 
extant  among  these  distracted  Nations,  has,  as  I  compute,  by 
far  the  greatest  possibilities.  The  Captains,  actual  or  po- 
tential, are  there,  and  the  million  Captainless  :  and  such  re- 
sources for  bringing  them  together  as  no  other  has.  To  these 
outcast  soldiers  of  his,  unregimented  roving  banditti  for  the 
present,  or  unworking  w^orkhouse  prisdners  who  are  almost 
uglier  than  banditti  ;  to  these  floods  of  Irish  Beggars,  Able- 
bodied  Paupers,  and  nomadic  Lackalls,  now  stagnating  or 
roaming  everywhere,  drowning  the  face  of  the  world  (too 
truly)  into  an  untenantable  swamp  and  Stygian  quagmire,  has 
the  Chief  Governor  of  this  country  no  word  whatever  to  say  ? 
Nothing  but  "Rate  in  aid,"  "  Time  will  mend  it,"  "Neces- 
sary business  of  the  Session  !  "  and  "  After  me  the  Deluge  "  ? 


40 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


A  Chief  Governor  that  can  front  his  Irish  difficulty,  and 
steadily  contemplate  the  horoscope  of  Irish  and  British  Pau- 
perism, and  whitherward  it  is  leading  him  and  us,  in  this  hu- 
mour, must  be  a — What  shall  we  call  such  a  Chief  Governor  *? 
Alas,  in  spite  of  old  use  and  wont, — little  other  than  a  toler- 
ated Solecism,  growing  daily  more  intolerable !  He  decidedly 
ought  to  have  some  word  to  say  on  this  matter, — to  be  in- 
cessantly occupied  in  getting  something  which  he  could 
practically  say ! — Perhaps  to  the  following,  or  a  much  finer 
effect  ? 


Speech  of  the  British  P r in le-  Minister  to  the  floods  of  Irish  and 
other  Beggars,  the  able-bodied  Laclcalls,  nomadic  or  stationary, 
and  the  general  assembly,  outdoor  and  indoor,  of  the  Pauper 
Populations  of  these  Realms. 

"  Vagrant  Lackalls,  foolish  most  of  you,  criminal  many  of 
you,  miserable  all  ;  the  sight  of  you  fills  me  with  astonish- 
ment and  despair.  What  to  do  with  you  I  know  not ;  long 
have  I  been  meditating,  and  it  is  hard  to  tell.  Here  are  some 
three  millions  of  you,  as  I  count :  so  many  of  you  fallen  sheer 
over  into  the  abysses  of  open  Beggary ;  and,  fearful  to  think, 
every  new  unit  that  falls  is  loading  so  much  more  the  chain 
that  drags  the  others  over.  On  the  edge  of  the  precijrice 
hang  uncounted  millions ;  increasing,  I  am  told,  at  the  rate  of 
1,200  a-day.  They  hang  there  on  the  giddy  edge,  poor  souls, 
cramping  themselves  down,  holding-on  with  all  their  strength  ; 
but  falling,  failing  one  after  another  ;  and  the  chain  is  getting 
heavy,  so  that  ever  more  fall  ;  and  who  at  last  will  stand? 
What  to  do  with  you  ?  The  question,  What  to  do  with  you  ? 
especially  since  the  potato  died,  is  like  to  break  my  heart ! 

"One  thing,  after  much  meditating,  I  have  at  last  discov- 
ered, and  now  know  for  some  time  back :  That  you  cannot  be 
left  to  roam  abroad  in  this  unguided  manner,  stumbling  over 
the  precipices,  and  loading  ever  heavier  the  fatal  chain  upon 
those  who  might  be  able  to  stand  ;  that  this  of  locking  you 
up  in  temporary  Idle  Workhouses,  when  you  stumble,  and 
subsisting  you  on  Indian  meal,  till  you  can  sally  forth  again 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


41 


on  fresh  roamings,  and  fresli  stumblings,  and  ultimate  descent 
to  the  devil ; — that  this  is  not  the  plan  ;  and  that  it  never  was, 
or  could  out  of  England  have  been  supposed  to  be,  much  as  I 
have  prided  myself  upon  it ! 

"  Vagrant  Lackalls,  I  at  last  perceive,  all  this  that  has  been 
sung  and  spoken,  for  a  long  while,  about  enfranchisement, 
emancipation,  freedom,  suffrage,  civil  and  religious  liberty 
over  the  world,  is  little  other  than  sad  temporary  jargon, 
brought  upon  us  by  a  stern  necessity, — but  now  ordered  by 
a  sterner  to  take  itself  away  again  a  little.  Sad  temporary 
jargon,  I  say :  made-up  of  sense  and  nonsense, — sense  in 
small  quantities,  and  nonsense  in  very  large  ; — and,  if  taken 
for  the  whole  or  permanent  truth  of  human  things,  it  is  no 
better  than  fatal  infinite  nonsense  eternally  untrue.  All  men, 
I  think,  will  soon  have  to  quit  this,  to  consider  this  as  a 
thing  pretty  well  achieved  ;  and  to  look-out  towards  another 
thing  much  more  needing  achievement  at  the  time  that  now  is. 

"  All  men  will  have  to  quit  it,  I  believe.  But  to  you,  my 
indigent  friends,  the  time  for  quitting  it  has  palpably  arrived  ! 
To  talk  of  glorious  self-government,  of  suffrages  and  hust- 
ings, and  the  fight  of  freedom  and  suchlike,  is  a  vain  thing  in 
your  case.  By  all  human  definitions  and  conceptions  of  the 
said  fight  of  freedom,  you  for  your  part  have  lost  it,  and  can 
fight  no  more.  Glorious  self-government  is  a  glory  not  for 
you, — not  for  Hodge's  emancipated  horses,  nor  you.  No  ;  I 
say,  No.  You,  for  your  part,  have  tried  it,  and  failed.  Left 
to  walk  your  own  road,  the  will-o'-wisps  beguiled  you,  your 
short  sight  could  not  descry  the  pitfalls  ;  the  deadly  tumult 
and  press  has  whirled  you  hither  and  thither,  regardless  of 
your  struggles  and  your  shrieks ;  and  here  at  last  you  lie  ; 
fallen  flat  into  the  ditch,  drowning  there  and  dying,  unless 
the  others  that  are  still  standing  please  to  pick  you  up.  The 
others  that  still  stand  have  their  own  difficulties,  I  can  tell 
you  ! — But  you,  by  imperfect  energy  and  redundant  appetite, 
by  doing  too  little  work  and  drinking  too  much  beer,  you  (I 
bid  you  observe)  have  proved  that  you  cannot  do  it !  You 
lie  there  plainly  in  the  ditch.  And  I  am  to  pick  you  up  again, 
on  these  mad  terms  ;  help  you  ever  again,  as  with  our  best 


42 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


heart's-blood,  to  do  what,  once  for  all,  the  gods  have  made 
impossible  ?  To  load  the  fatal  chain  with  your  perpetual 
staggerings  and  sprawlings  ;  and  ever  again  load  it,  till  we 
all  lie  sprawling  ?  My  indigent,  incompetent  friends,  I  will 
not !  Know  that,  whoever  may  be  '  sons  of  freedom,'  you 
for  your  part  are  not  and  cannot  be  such.  Not  '  free '  you,  I 
think,  whoever  may  be  free.  You  palpably  are  fallen  captive, 
— caitiff,  as  they  once  named  it : — you  do,  silently,  but  elo- 
quently, demand,  in  the  name  of  mercy  itself,  that  some  gen- 
uine command  be  taken  of  you. 

"Yes,  my  indigent  incompetent  friends  ;  some  genuine 
practical  command.  Such, — if  I  rightly  interpret  those  mad 
Chartisms,  Repeal  Agitations,  Red  Republics,  and  other  de- 
lirious inarticulate  bowlings  and  bello wings  which  all  the 
populations  of  the  world  now  utter,  evidently  cries  of  pain 
on  their  and  your  part, — is  the  demand  which  you,  Captives, 
make  of  all  men  that  are  not  Captive,  but  are  still  Free. 
Free  men, — alas,  had  you  ever  any  notion  who  the  free  men 
were,  who  the  not-free,  the  incapable  of  freedom  !  The  free 
men,  if  you  could  have  understood  it,  they  are  the  wise  men  ; 
the  patient,  self-denying,  valiant ;  the  noblest  of  the  World  ; 
who  can  discern  the  Law  of  this  Universe,  what  it  is,  and 
piously  obey  it  ;  these,  in  late  sad  times,  having  cast  you 
loose,  you  are  fallen  captive  to  greedy  sons  of  profit-and-loss  ; 
to  bad  and  ever  to  worse  ;  and  at  length  to  Beer  and  the 
Devil.  Algiers,  Brazil  or  Dahomey  hold  nothing  in  them 
so  authentically  slave  as  you  are,  my  indigent  incompetent 
friends ! 

"Good  Heavens,  and  I  have  to  raise  some  eight  or  nine 
millions  annually,  six  for  England  itself,  and  to  wreck  the 
morals  of  my  working  population  beyond  all  money's  worth, 
to  keep  the  life  from  going  out  of  you  :  a  small  service  to 
you,  as  I  many  times  bitterly  repeat !  Alas,  yes  ;  before  high 
Heaven  I  must  declare  it  such.  I  think  the  old  Spartans, 
who  would  have  killed  you  instead,  had  shown  more  1  hu- 
manity,' more  of  manhood,  than  I  thus  do  !  More  humanity, 
I  say,  more  of  manhood,  and  of  sense  for  what  the  dignity 
of  man  demands  imperatively  of  you  and  of  me  and  of  us  all 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


43 


We  call  it  charity,  beneficence,  and  other  fine  names,  this 
brutish  Workhouse  Scheme  of  ours  ;  and  it  is  but  sluggish 
heartlessness,  and  insincerity,  and  cowardly  lowness  of  soul. 
Not  '  humanity '  or  manhood,  I  think ;  perhaps  apehoo  1 
rather, — paltry  imitancv,  from  the  teeth  outward,  of  what  our 
heart  never  felt  nor  our  understanding  ever  saw  ;  dim  indo- 
lent adherence  to  extraneous  hearsays  and  extinct  traditions ; 
traditions  now  really  about  extinct ;  not  living  now  to  almost 
any  of  us,  and  still  haunting  with  their  spectralities  and  gib- 
bering ghosts  (in  a  truly  baleful  manner)  almost  all  of  us ! 
Making  this  our  struggling  '  Twelfth  Hour  of  the  Night '  in- 
expressibly hideous  ! — 

"But  as  for  you,  my  indigent  incompetent  friends,  I  have 
to  repeat  with  sorrow,  but  with  perfect  clearness,  what  is 
plainly  undeniable,  and  is  even  clamorous  to  get  itself  ad- 
mitted, that  you  are  of  the  nature  of  slaves, — or  if  you  prefer 
the  word,  of  nomadic,  and  now  even  vagrant  and  vagabond, 
servants  that  can  find  no  master  on  those  terms;  which  seems 
to  me  a  much  uglier  word.  Emancipation  ?  You  have  been 
'  emancipated '  with  a  vengeance  !  Foolish  souls,  I  say  the 
whole  world  cannot  emancipate  you.  Fealty  to  ignorant 
Unruliness,  to  gluttonous  sluggish  Improvidence,  to  the  Beer- 
pot  and  the  Devil,  who  is  there  that  can  emancipate  a  man 
in  that  predicament  ?  Not  a  whole  Reform  Bill,  a  whole 
French  Revolution  executed  for  his  behoof  alone  :  nothing  but 
God  the  Maker  can  emancipate  him,  by  making  him  anew. 

"To  forward  which  glorious  consummation,  will  it  not  be 
well,  O  indigent  friends,  that  you,  fallen  flat  there,  shall 
henceforth  learn  to  take  advice  of  others  as  to  the  methods 
of  standing  ?  Plainly  I  let  you  know,  and  all  the  world  and 
the  worlds  know,  that  I  for  my  part  mean  it  so.  Not  as 
glorious  unfortunate  sons  of  freedom,  but  as  recognised  cap- 
tives, as  unfortunate  fallen  brothers  requiring  that  I  should 
command  you,  and  if  need  were,  control  and  compel  you, 
can  there  henceforth  be  a  relation  between  us.  Ask  me  not 
for  Indian  meal  ;  you  shall  be  compelled  to  earn  it  first ; 
know  that  on  other  terms  I  will  not  give  you  any.  Before 
Heaven  and  Earth,  and  God  the  Maker  of  us  all,  I  declare  it 


44 


LATTER-BAT  PAMPHLETS. 


is  a  scandal  to  see  such  a  life  kept  in  you,  by  the  sweat  and 
heart's-blood  of  your  brothers  ;  and  that,  if  we  cannot  mend 
it,  death  were  preferable  !  Go  to,  we  must  get  out  of  this 
unutterable  coil  of  nonsenses,  coustitutional,  philanthropical 
&c,  in  which  (surely  without  mutual  hatred,  if  with  less  of 
'  love '  than  is  supposed)  we  are  all  strangling  one  another ! 
Your  want  of  wants,  I  say,  is  that  you  be  commanded  in  this 
world,  not  being  able  to  command  yourselves.  Know  there- 
fore that  it  shall  be  so  with  you.  Nomadism,  I  give  you  no- 
tice, has  ended  ;  needful  permanency,  soldier-like  obedience, 
and  the  opportunity  and  the  necessity  of  hard  steady  labour 
for  your  living,  have  begun.  Know  that  the  Idle  Workhouse 
is  shut  against  you  henceforth  ;  you  cannot  enter  there  at 
will,  nor  leave  at  will ; — you  shall  enter  a  quite  other  Refuge, 
under  conditions  strict  as  soldiering,  and  not  leave  till  I  have 
done  with  you.  He  that  prefers  the  glorious  (or  perhaps 
even  the  rebellious  inglorious)  'career  of  freedom,'  let  him 
prove  that  he  can  travel  there,  and  be  the  master  of  himself ; 
and  right  good  speed  to  him.  He  who  has  proved  that  he 
cannot  travel  there  or  be  the  master  of  himself, — let  him,  in 
the  name  of  all  the  gods,  become  a  servant,  and  accept  the 
just  rules  of  servitude  ! 

"  Arise,  enlist  in  my  Irish,  my  Scotch  and  English  *  Regi- 
ments of  the  New  Era,' — which  I  have  been  concocting,  day 
and  night,  during  these  three  Grouse-seasons  (taking  earnest 
incessant  counsel,  with  all  manner  of  Industrial  Notabilities 
and  men  of  insight,  on  the  matter),  and  have  now  brought  to 
a  kind  of  preparation  for  incipiency,  thank  Heaven  !  Enlist 
there,  ye  poor  wandering  banditti ;  obey,  work,  suffer,  ab- 
stain, as  all  of  us  have  had  to  do  :  so  shall  you  be  useful  in 
God's  creation,  so  shall  you  be  helped  to  gain  a  manful  liv- 
ing for  yourselves  ;  not  otherwise  than  so.  Industrial  Regi- 
ments " — [HJtre  numerous  persons,  with  big  wigs  many  of  them, 
and  austere  aspect,  whom  I  take  to  be' Professors  of  the  Dismal 
Science,  start  up  in  an  agitated  vehement  manner:  but  the  Pre- 
mier resolutely  beckons  them  down  again] — "  Regiments  not  to 
fight  the  French  or  others,  who  are  peaceable  enough  towards 
us ;  but  to  fight  the  Bogs  and  Wildernesses  at  home  and 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


45 


abroad,  and  to  chain  the  Devils  of  the  Pit  which  are  walking 
too  openly  among  us. 

"Work,  for  you  ?  Work,  surely,  is  not  quite  un  discovera- 
ble in  an  Earth  so  wide  as  ours,  if  we  will  take  the  right 
methods  for  it !  Indigent  friends,  we  will  adopt  this  new  re- 
lation (which  is  old  as  the  world)  ;  this  will  lead  us  towards 
such.  Rigorous  conditions,  not  to  be  violated  on  either  side, 
lie  in  this  relation  ;  conditions  planted  there  by  God  Him- 
self ;  which  woe  will  betide  us  if  we  do  not  discover,  gradu- 
ally more  and  more  discover,  and  conform  to  !  Industrial 
Colonels,  Workmasters,- Taskmasters,  Life-commanders,  equi- 
table as  Ehadamanthus  and  inflexible  as  he  :  such,  I  per- 
ceive, you  do  need  ;  and  such,  you  being  once  put  under  law 
as  soldiers  are,  will  be  discoverable  for  you.  I  perceive,  with 
boundless  alarm,  that  I  shall  have  to  set  about  discovering 
such, — I,  since  I  am  at  the  top  of  affairs,  with  all  men  looking 
to  me.  Alas,  it  is  my  new  task  in  this  New  Era ;  and 
God  knows,  I  too,  little  other  than  a  redtape  Talking-ma- 
chine, and  unhappy  Bag  of  Parliamentary  Eloquence  hith- 
erto, am  far  behind  with  it  !  But  street-barricades  rise  ever}T- 
where  :  the  hour  of  Fate  has  come.  In  Connemara  there  has 
sprung  a  leak,  since  the  potato  died  ;  Connaught,  if  it  were 
not  for  Treasury-grants  and  rates-in-aid,  would  have  to  recur 
to  Cannibalism  even  now,  and  Human  Society  would  cease  to 
pretend  that  it  existed  there.  Done  this  thing  must  be.  Alas, 
I  perceive  that  if  I  cannot  do  it,  then  surely  I  shall  die,  and 
perhaps  shall  not  have  Christian  burial !  But  I  already  raise 
near  upon  Ten  Millions  for  feeding  you  in  idleness,  my  no- 
madic friends  ;  work,  under  due  regulations,  I  really  might 
try  to  get  of" — [Here  arises  indescribable  uproar,  no  longer 
repressible,  from  all  manner  of  Economists,  Emancipationists, 
Constitutionalists,  and  miscellaneous  Professors  of  the  Dismal 
Science,  pretty  numerously  scattered  about  ;  and  cries  of  "Pri- 
vate Enterprise,"  "  Rights  of  Capital"  "  Voluntary  Principle," 
"Doctrines  of  the  British  Constitution,"  swollen  by  the  general 
assenting  hum  of  all  the  world,  quite  drown  tlie  Chief  Minister 
for  a  while.  He,  with  invincible  resolution,  persists ;  obtains 
heai^ing  again :] 


46 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


"  Respectable  Professors  of  the  Dismal  Science,  soft  you  a 
little.  Alas,  I  know  what  you  would  say.  For  my  sins,  I 
have  read  much  in  those  inimitable  volumes  of  yours, — really 
I  should  think,  some  barrowfuls  of  them  in  my  time, — and, 
in  these  last  forty  years  of  theory  and  practice,  have  pretty 
well  seized  what  of  Divine  Message  you  were  sent  with  to  me. 
Perhaps  as  small  a  message,  give  me  leave  to  say,  as  ever  „ 
there  was  such  a  noise  made  about  before.  Trust  me,  I  have 
not  forgotten  it,  shall  never  forget  it.  Those  Laws  of  the 
Shop-till  are  indisputable  to  me  ;  and  practically  useful  in 
certain  departments  of  the  Universe,  as  the  multiplication- 
table  itself.  Once  I  even  tried  to  sail  through  the  Immensi- 
ties with  them,  and  to  front  the  big  coming  Eternities  with 
them  ;  but  I  found  it  would  not  do.  As  the  Supreme  Rule 
of  Statesmanship,  or  Government  of  Men, — since  this  Universe 
is  not  wholly  a  Shop, — no.  You  rejoice  in  my  improved 
tariffs,  free-trade  movements  and  the  like,  on  every  hand  ;  for 
which  be  thankful,  and  even  sing  litanies  if  you  choose.  But 
here  at  last,  in  the  Idle-Workhouse  movement, — unexampled 
yet  on  Earth  or  in  the  waters  under  the  Earth, — I  am  fairly 
brought  to  a  stand  ;  and  have  had  to  make  reflections,  of  the 
most  alarming,  and  indeed  awful,  and  as  it  were  religious 
nature  !  Professors  of  the  Dismal  Science,  I  perceive  that 
the  length  of  your  tether  is  now  pretty  well  run  ;  and  that  I 
must  request  you  to  talk  a  little  lower  in  future.  By  the  side 
of  the  shop-till, — see,  your  small  '  Law  of  God  '  is  hung  up, 
along  with  the  multiplication-table  itself.  But  beyond  and 
above  the  shop-till,  allow  me  to  say,  you  shall  as  good  as 
hold  your  peace.  Respectable  Professors,  I  perceive  it  is  not 
now  the  Gigantic  Hucksters,  but  it  is  the  Immortal  Gods, 
yes  they,  in  their  terror  and  their  beauty,  in  their  wrath  and 
their  beneficence,  that  are  coming  into  play  in  the  affairs  of 
this  world  !  Soft  you  a  little.  Do  not  you  interrupt  me,  but 
try  to  understand  and  help  me  ! — 

— "Work,  was  I  saying?  My  indigent  unguided  friends, 
I  should  think  some  work  might  be  discoverable  for  you. 
Enlist,  stand  drill  ;  become,  from  a  nomadic  Banditti  of  Idle- 
ness, Soldiers  of  Industry  !  I  will  lead  you  to  the  Irish  Bogs, 


THE  PRESENT  TIME. 


47 


to  the  vacant  desolations  of  Connaught  now  falling  into  Can- 
nibalism, to  mistilled  Connaught,  to  ditto  Munster,  Leinster, 
Ulster,  I  will  lead  you  :  to  the  English  fox-covers,  furze-grown 
Commons,  New  Forests,  Salisbury  Plains  :  likewise  to  the 
Scotch  Hill-sides,  and  bare  rushy  slopes,  which  as  yet  feed 
only  sheep, — moist  uplands,  thousands  of  square  miles  in 
extent,  which  are  destined  yet  to  grow  green  crops,  and  fresh 
butter  and  milk  and  beef  without  limit  (wherein  no  '  For- 
eigner can  compete  with  us'),  were  the  Glasgow  sewers  once 
opened  on  them,  and  you  with  your  Colonels  carried  thither. 
In  the  Three  Kingdoms,  or  in  the  Forty  Colonies,  depend 
upon  it,  you  shall  be  led  to  your  work  ! 

"  To  oach  of  you  I  will  then  say  :  Here  is  work  for  you  ; 
strike  into  it  with  manlike,  soldierlike  obedience  and  hearti- 
ness, according  to  the  methods  here  prescribed, — wages  fol- 
low for  you  without  difficulty  ;  all  manner  of  just  remunera- 
tion, and  at  length  emancipation  itself  follows.  Eefuse  to 
strike  into  it ;  shirk  the  heavy  labour,  disobey  the  rules, — I 
will  admonish  and  endeavour  to  incite  you  ;  if  in  vain,  I  will 
nog  you  ;  if  still  in  vain,  I  will  at  last  shoot  you, — and  make 
God's  Earth,  and  the  forlorn-hope  in  God's  Battle,  free  of 
you.  Understand  it,  I  advise  you !  The  Organisation  of 
Labour  "  [Left  speaking,  says  our  reporter.] 

'  Left  speaking  : '  alas,  that  he  should  have  to  '  speak  '  so 
much  !  There  are  things  that  should  be  done,  not  spoken  ; 
that  till  the  doing  of  them  is  begun,  cannot  well  be  spoken. 
He  may  have  to  '  speak '  seven  years  yet,  before  a  spade  be 
struck  into  the  Bog  of  Allen  ;  and  then  perhaps  it  wild  be  too 
late  !— 

You  perceive,  my  friends,  we  have  actually  got  into  the 
'  New  Era  '  there  has  been  such  prophesying  of  :  here  we  all 
are,  arrived  at  last  ; — and  it  is  by  no  means  the  land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey  we  were  led  to  expect !  Very  much  the 
reverse.  A  terrible  new  country  this :  no  neighbours  in  it 
yet,  that  I  can  see,  but  irrational  flabby  monsters  (philan- 
thropic and  other)  of  the  giant  species  ;  hyaenas,  laughing 
hyaenas,  predatory  wolves  ;  probably  devils,  blue  (or  perhaps 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


blue-and-yellow)  devils,  as  St.  Guthlac  found  in  Croyland 
long  ago.  A  huge  untrodden  haggard  country,  the  '  chaotic 
battle-field  of  Frost  and  Fire  ; '  a  country  of  savage  glaciers, 
granite  mountains,  of  foul  jungles,  unhewed  forests,  quaking 
bogs  ; — which  we  shall  have  our  own  ados  to  make  arable, 
and  habitable,  T  think  !  We  must  stick  by  it,  however  ; — of 
ail  enterprises  the  impossiblest  is  that  of  getting  out  of  it, 
and  shifting  into  another.  To  work,  then,  one  and  all ; 
hands  to  work ! 

No.  II  MODEL  PEISONS. 

[1st  March  1850.] 

The  deranged  condition  of  our  affairs  is  a  universal  topic 
among  men  at  present  ;  and  the  heavy  miseries  pressing,  in 
their  rudest  shape,  on  the  great  dumb  inarticulate  class,  and 
from  this,  by  a  sure  law,  spreading  upwards,  in  a  less  palpa- 
ble but  not  less  certain  and  perhaps  still  more  fatal  shape  on 
all  classes  to  the  very  highest,  are  admitted  everywhere  to  be 
great,  increasing  and  now  almost  unendurable.  How  to  di- 
minish them, — this  is  every  man's  question.  For  in  fact  they 
do  imperatively  need  diminution  ;  and  unless  they  can  be  di- 
minished, there  are  many  other  things  that  cannot  very  long 
continue  to  exist  beside  them.  A  serious  question  indeed. 
How  to  diminish  them  ! 

Among  the  articulate  classes,  as  they  may  be  called,  there 
are  two  ways  of  proceeding  in  regard  to  this.  One  large  body 
of  the  intelligent  and  influential,  busied  mainly  in  personal 
affairs,  accepts  the  social  iniquities,  or  whatever  you  may  call 
them,  and  the  miseries  consequent  thereupon  ;  accepts  them, 
admits  them  to  be  extremely  miserable,  pronounces  them  en- 
tirely inevitable,  incurable  except  by  Heaven,  and  eats  its  pud- 
ding with  as  little  thought  of  them  as  possible.  Not  a  very 
noble  class  of  citizens  these  ;  not  a  very  hopeful  or  salutary 
method  of  dealing  with  social  iniquities  this  of  theirs,  however 
it  may  answer  in  respect  to  themselves  and  their  personal  af- 
fairs !    But  now  there  is  the  select  small  minority,  in  whom 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


49 


some  sentiment  of  public  spirit  and  human  pity  still  survives, 
among  whom,  or  not  any  where,  the  Good  Cause  may  expect 
to  find  soldiers  and  servants  :  their  method  of  proceeding,  in 
these  times,  is  also  very  strange.  They  embark  in  the  '  phil- 
anthropic movement  ; '  they  calculate  that  the  miseries  of  the 
world  can  be  cared  by  bringing  the  philanthropic  movement 
to  bear  on  them.  To  universal  public  misery,  and  universal 
neglect  of  the  clearest  public  duties,  let  private  charity  super- 
add itself:  there  will  thus  be  some  balance  restored,  and  main- 
tained again  ;  thus, — or  by  what  conceivable  method  ?  On 
these  terms  they,  for  their  part,  embark  in  the  sacred  cause  ; 
resolute  to  cure  a  world's  woes  by  rose-water ;  desperately 
bent  on  trying  to  the  uttermost  that  mild  method.  It  seems 
not  to  have  struck  these  good  men  that  no  world,  or  thing 
here  below,  ever  fell  into  misery,  without  having  first  fallen 
into  folly,  into  sin  against  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  it,  by  adopt- 
ing as  a  law  of  conduct  what  was  not  a  law,  but  the  reverse  of 
one  ;  and  that,  till  its  folly,  till  its  sin  be  cast  out  of  it,  there 
is  not  the  smallest  hope  of  its  misery  going, — that  not  for  all 
the  charity  and  rose-water  in  the  world  will  its  misery  try  to 
go  till  then  ! 

This  is  a  sad  error  ;  all  the  sadder  as  it  is  the  error  chiefly 
of  the  more  humane  and  noble-minded  of  our  generation  ; 
among  whom,  as  we  said,  or  elsewhere  not  at  all,  the  cause  of 
real  Reform  must  expect  its  servants.  At  present,  and  for  a 
long  while  past,  whatsoever  young  soul  awoke  in  England 
with  some  disposition  towards  generosity  and  social  heroism, 
or  at  lowest  with  some  intimation  of  the  beauty  of  such  a  dis- 
position,— he,  in  whom  the  poor  world  might  have  looked  for 
a  Reformer,  and  valiant  mender  of  its  foul  ways,  was  almost 
sure  to  become  a  Philanthropist,  reforming  merely  by  this 
rose-water  method.  To  admit  that  the  world's  ways  are  foul, 
and  not  the  ways  of  God  the  Maker,  but  of  Satan  the  De- 
stroyer, many  of  them,  and  that  they  must  be  mended  or  we 
all  die  ;  that  if  huge  misery  pervails,  huge  cowardice,  falsity, 
disloyalty,  universal  Injustice  high  and  low,  have  still  longer 
prevailed,  and  must  straightway  try  to  cease  prevailing  :  this 
is  what  no  visible  reformer  has  yet  thought  of  doing.  All  so- 
4 


50 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


called  '  reforms '  hitherto  are  grounded  either  on  openly- 
admitted  egoism  (cheap  bread  to  the  cotton-spinner,  voting  to 
those  that  have  no  vote,  and  the  like),  which  does  not  point 
towards  very  celestial  developments  of  the  Reform  move- 
ment ;  or  else  upon  this  of  remedying  social  injustices  by  in- 
discriminate contributions  of  philanthropy,  a  method  surely 
still  more  unpromising.  Such  contributions,  being  indiscrim- 
inate, are  but  a  new  injustice  ;  these  will  never  lead  to  reform, 
or  abolition  of  inj  nstiee,  whatever  else  they  lead  to  ! 

Not  by  that  method  shall  we  'get  round  Cape  Horn,'  by 
never  such  unanimity  of  voting,  under  the  most  approved  Phan- 
tasm Captains  !  It  is  miserable  to  see.  Having,  as  it  were, 
quite  lost  our  way  round  Cape  Horn,  and  being  sorely  '  ad- 
monished' by  the  Iceberg  and  other  dumb  councillors,  the 
pilots, — instead  of  taking  to  their  sextants,  and  asking  with 
a  seriousness  unknown  for  a  long  while,  What  the  Laws  of 
wind  and  water,  and  of  Earth  and  of  Heaven  are, — decide 
that  now,  in  these  new  circumstances,  they  will,  to  the  worthy 
and  unworthy,  serve-out  a  double  allowance  of  grog.  In  this 
way  they  hope  to  do  it, — by  steering  on  the  old  wrong  tack, 
and  serving-out  more  and  more  copiously  what  little  aquavitce 
may  be  still  on  board  !  Philanthropy,  emancipation,  and  pity 
for  human  calamity  is  very  beautiful ;  but  the  deep  oblivion 
of  the  Law  of  Right  and  Wrong  ;  this  '  indiscriminate  mashing- 
up  of  Right  and  Wrong  into  a  patent  treacle '  of  the  Philan- 
thropic movement,  is  by  no  means  beautiful ;  this,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  altogether  ugly  and  alarming. 

Truly  if  there  be  not  something  inarticulate  among  us,  not 
yet  uttered  but  pressing  towards  utterance,  which  is  much 
v.  Lser  than  anything  we  have  lately  articulated  or  brought  into 
word  or  action,  our  outlooks  are  rather  lamentable.  The  gre  at 
majority  of  the  powerful  and  active-minded,  sunk  in  egoistic 
scepticisms,  busied  in  chase  of  lucre,  pleasure,  and  mere  vulgar 
objects,  looking  with  indifference  on  the  world's  woes,  and 
passing  carelessly  by  on  the  other  side  ;  and  the  select  minor- 
ity, of  whom  better  might  have  been  expected,  bending  all 
their  strength  to  cure  them  by  methods  which  can  only  make 
bad  worse,  and  in  the  end  render  cure  hopeless.    A  blind  lo- 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


51 


quacious  pruriency  of  indiscriminate  Philanthropism  substitut- 
ing itself,  with  much  self-laudation,  for  the  silent  divinely  aw- 
ful sense  of  Eight  and  Wrong  ; — testifying  too  clearly  that  here 
is  no  longer  a  divine  sense  of  Right  and  Wrong  ;  that,  in  the 
smoke  of  this  universal,  and  alas  inevitable  and  indispensable 
revolutionary  fire,  and  burning-up  of  worn-out  rags  of  which 
the  world  is  full,  our  life-atmosphere  has  (for  the  time)  become 
one  vile  London  fog,  and  the  eternal  loadstars  are  gone  out  for 
us  !  Gone  out ; — yet  very  visible  if  you  can  get  above  the  fog ; 
still  there  in  their  place,  and  quite  the  same,  as  they  always 
were  !  To  whoever  does  still  know  of  loadstars,  the  proceedings, 
which  expand  themselves  daily,  of  these  sublime  philanthropic 
associations,  and  c  universal  sluggard-and-scoundrel  protection- 
societies,'  are  a  perpetual  affliction.  With  their  emancipations 
and  abolition-principles,  and  reigns  of  brotherhood  and  new 
methods  of  love,  they  have  done  great  things  in  the  White 
and  in  the  Black  World,  during  late  years  ;  and  are  preparing 
for  greater. 

In  the  interest  of  human  reform,  if  there  is  ever  to  be  any 
reform,  and  return  to  prosperity  or  to  the  possibility  of  pros- 
pering, it  is  urgent  that  the  nonsense  of  all  this  (and  it  is 
mostly  nonsense,  but  not  quite)  should  be  sent  about  its  busi- 
ness straightway,  and  forbidden  to  deceive  the  well-meaning 
souls  among  us  any  more.  Reform,  if  we  will  understand  that 
divine  word,  cannot  begin  till  then.  One  day,  I  do  know,  this, 
as  is  the  doom  of  all  nonsense,  will  be  drummed-out  of  the 
world,  with  due  placard  stuck  on  its  back,  and  the  the  populace 
flinging  dead  cats  at  it :  but  whether  soon  or  not,  is  by  no 
means  so  certain.  I  rather  guess,  not  at  present,  not  quite 
soon.  Fraternity,  in  other  countries,  has  gone  on,  till  it  found 
itself  unexpectedly  manipulating  guillotines  by  its  chosen 
Robespierres,  and  become  a  fraternity  like  Cain's.  Much  to  its 
am;izement !  For  in  fact  it  is  not  all  nonsense  ;  there  is  an  in- 
finitesimal fraction  of  sense  in  it  withal ;  which  is  so  difficult 
to  disengage  ; — which  must  be  disengaged,  and  laid  hold  of, 
before  Fraternity  can  vanish. 

But  to  our  subject, — the  Model  Prison,  and  the  strauge 
theory  of  life  now  in  action  there.    That,  for  the  present,  is 


52 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


my  share  in  the  wide  adventure  of  Philanthropism  ;  the  world's 
share,  and  how  and  when  it  is  to  be  liquidated  and  ended, 
rests  with  the  Supreme  Destinies. 

Several  months  ago,  some  friends  took  me  with  them  to  see 
one  of  the  London  Prisons  ;  a  Prison  of  the  exemplary  or 
model  kind.  An  immense  circuit  of  buildings  ;  cut-out,  girt 
with  a  high  ring-wall,  from  the  lanes  and  streets  of  the  quar- 
ter, which  is  a  dim  and  crowded  one.  Gateway  as  to  a  forti- 
fied place  ;  then  a  spacious  court,  like  the  square  of  a  city ; 
broad  staircases,  passages  to  interior  courts  ;  fronts  of  stately 
architecture  all  round.  It  lodges  some  Thousand  or  Twelve- 
hundred  prisoners,  besides  the  officers  of  the  establishment. 
Surely  one  of  the  most  perfect  buildings,  within  the  compass 
of  London.  We  looked  at  the  apartments,  sleeping-cells,  din- 
ing-rooms, working-rooms,  general  courts  or  special  and  pri- 
vate :  excellent  all,  the  ne-plus-ultra  of  human  care  and  inge- 
nuity ;  in  my  life  I  never  saw  so  clean  a  building  ;  probably  no 
Duke  in  England  lives  in  a  mansion  of  such  perfect  and  thor- 
ough cleanness. 

The  bread,  the  cocoa,  soup,  meat,  all  the  various  sorts  of 
food,  in  their  respective  cooking-places,  we  tasted :  found 
them  of  excellent  superlative.  The  prisoners  sat  at  work, 
light  work,  picking  oakum,  and  the  like,  in  airy  apartments 
with  glass-roofs,  of  agreeable  temperature  and  perfect  ventila- 
tion ;  silent,  or  at  least  conversing  only  by  secret  signs :  others 
were  out,  taking  their  hour  of  promenade  in  clean  nagged 
courts :  methodic  composure,  cleanliness,  peace,  substantial 
wholesome  comfort  reigned  everywhere  supreme.  The  women 
in  other  apartments,  some  notable  murderesses  among  them, 
all  in  the  like  state  of  methodic  composure  and  substantial 
wholesome  comfort,  sat  sewing  :  in  long  ranges  of  wash-houses, 
drying-houses  and  whatever  pertains  to  the  getting-up  of  clean 
linen,  were  certain  others,  with  all  conceivable  mechanical 
furtherances,  not  too  arduously  working.  The  notable  mur- 
deresses were,  though  with  great,  precautions  of  privacy, 
pointed  out  to  us  ;  and  we  were  requested  not  to  look  openly 
al  t  hem,  or  seem  to  notice  them  at  all,  as  it  was  found  to 
'  cherish  their  vanity  '  when  visitors  looked  at  them.  Schools 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


53 


too  were  there  ;  intelligent  teachers  of  both  sexes,  studiously 
instructing  the  still  ignorant  of  these  thieves. 

From  an  inner  upper  room  or  gallery,  we  looked  down 
into  a  range  of  private  courts,  where  certain  Chartist  Nota- 
bilities were  undergoing  their  term.  Chartist  Notability  First 
struck  me  very  much  :  I  had  seen  him  about  a  year  before, 
by  involuntary  accident  and  much  to  my  disgust,  magnetising 
a  silly  young  person  ;  and  had  noted  well  the  unlovely  vora- 
cious look  of  him,  his  thick  oily  skin,  his  heavy  dull-burning 
eyes,  his  greedy  mouth,  the  dusky  potent  insatiable  animalism 
that  looked  out  of  every  feature  of  him  :  a  fellow  adequate  to 
animal-magnetise  most  things,  I  did  suppose  ; — and  here  was 
the  post  I  now  found  him  arrived  at.  Next  neighbour  to  him 
was  Notability  Second,  a  philosophic  or  literary  Chartist ; 
walking  rapidly  to  and  fro  in  his  private  court,  a  clean,  high- 
walled  place  ;  the  world  and  its  cares  quite  excluded,  for  some 
months  to  come :  master  of  his  own  time  and  spiritual  re- 
sources to,  as  I  supposed,  a  really  enviable  extent.  What  '  lit- 
erary man '  to  an  equal  extent !  I  fanced  I,  for  my  own  part, 
so  left  with  paper  and  ink,  and  all  taxes  and  botherations  shut- 
out from  me,  could  have  written  such  a  Book  as  no  reader 
will  here  ever  get  of  me.  Never,  O  reader,  never  here  in  a 
mere  house  with  taxes  and  botherations.  Here,  alas,  one  has 
to  snatch  one's  poor  Book,  bit  by  bit,  as  from  a  conflagration  , 
and  to  think  and  live,  comparatively,  as  if  the  house  were  not 
one's  own,  but  mainly  the  world's  and  the  devil's.  Notability 
Second  might  have  filled  one  with  envy. 

The  Captain  of  the  place,  a  gentleman  of  ancient  Military 
or  Royal-Navy  habits,  was  one  of  the  most  perfect  governors  ; 
professionally  and  by  nature  zealous  for  cleanliness,  punctu- 
ality, good  order  of  every  kind  ;  a  humane  heart  and  yet  a 
strong  one  ;  soft  of  speech  and  manner,  yet  with  an  inflexible 
rigour  of  command,  so  far  as  his  limits  went :  '  iron  hand  in 
a  velvet  glove,'  as  Napoleon  defined  it.  A  man  of  real  worth, 
challenging  at  once  love  and  respect :  the  light  of  those  mild 
bright  eyes  seemed  to  permeate  the  place  as  with  an  all-per- 
vading vigilance,  and  kindly  yet  victorious  illumination  ;  in 
the  soft  definite  voice  it  was  as  if  Nature  herself  were  promul- 


54 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


gating  her  orders,  gentlest  mildest  orders,  which  however,  in 
the  end,  there  would  be  no  disobeying,  which  in  the  end  there 
would  be  no  living  without  fulfilment  of.  A  true  '  aristos,'  and 
commander  of  men.  A  man  worthy  to  have  commanded  and 
guided  forward,  in  good  ways,  Twelve-hundred  of  the  best 
commonpeople  in  London  or  the  world :  he  was  here,  for 
many  years  past,  giving  all  his  care  and  faculty  to  command, 
and  guide  forward  in  such  ways  as  there  were,  Twelve -hun- 
dred of  the  worst.  I  looked  with  considerable  admiration  on 
this  gentleman  ;  and  with  considerable  astonishment,  the  re- 
verse of  admiration,  on  the  work  he  had  here  been  set  upon. 

This  excellent  Captain  was  too  old  a  Commander  to  com- 
plain of  anything  ;  indeed  lie  struggled  visibly  the  other  way, 
to  find  in  his  own  mind  that  all  here  was  best ;  but  I  could 
sufficiently  discern  that,  in  his  natural  instincts,  if  not  mount- 
ing up  to  the  region  of  his  thoughts,  there  was  a  continual 
protest  going  on  against  much  of  it ;  that  nature  and  all  his 
inarticulate  persuasion  (however  much  forbidden  to  articulate 
itself)  taught  him  the  futility  and  unfeasibility  of  the  system 
followed  here.  The  Visiting  Magistrates,  he  gently  regretted 
rather  than  complained,  had  lately  taken  his  treadwheel  from 
him,  men  were  just  now  pulling  it  down  ;  and  how  he  was 
henceforth  to  enforce  discipline  on  these  bad  subjects,  was 
much  a  difficulty  with  him.  "They  cared  for  nothing  but 
the  treadwheel,  and  for  having  their  rations  cut  short :  "  of  the 
two  sole  penalties,  hard  work  and  occasional  hunger,  there  re- 
mained now  only  one,  and  that  by  no  means  the  better  one, 
as  he  thought.  The  '  sympathy  '  of  visitors,  too,  their  '  pity ' 
for  his  interesting  scoundrel-subjects,  though  he  tried  to  like 
it,  was  evidently  no  joy  to  this  practical  mind.  Pity,  yes  : — 
but  pity  for  the  scoundrel-species  ?  For  those  who  will  not 
have  pity  on  themselves,  and  wall  force  the  Universe  and  the 
L;i\vs  of  Nature  to  have  no  'pity'  on  them?  Meseems  I 
could  discover  fitter  objects  of  pity  ! 

In  fact  it  was  too  clear,  this  excellent  man  had  got  a  field 
for  his  faculties  which,  in  several  respects,  was  by  no  means 
the  suitable  one.  To  drill  Twelve-hundred  scoundrels  by  '  the 
method  of  kindness,' and  of  abolishing  your  very  treadwheel, 


MODEL  PMSONS. 


55 


« — how  could  any  commander  rejoice  to  have  such  a  work  cut- 
out for  him?  You  had  but  to  look  in  the  faces  of  these 
Twelve-hundred,  and  despair,  for  most  part,  of  ever  '  com- 
manding '  them  at  all.  Miserable  distorted  blockheads,  the 
generality  ;  ape-faces,  imp-faces,  angry  dog-faces,  heavy  sullen 
ox-faces ;  degraded  underfoot  perverse  creatures,  sous  of  in- 
docility,  greedy  mutinous  darkness,  and  in  one  word,  of  stu- 
pidity, which  is  the  general  mother  of  such.  Stupidity  intel- 
lectual and  stupidity  moral  (for  the  one  always  means  the  other, 
as  you  will,  with  surprise  or  not,  discover  if  you  look)  had  born 
this  progeny  :  base-natured  beings,  on  whom  in  the  course  of 
a  maleficent  subterranean  life  of  London  Scoundrelism,  the 
Genius  of  Darkness  (called  Satan,  Devil,  and  other  names)  had 
now  visibly  impressed  his  seal,  and  had  marked  them  out  as 
soldiers  of  Chaos  and  of  him, — appointed  to  serve  in  his  Regi- 
ments, First  of  the  line,  Second  ditto,  and  so  on  in  their  order. 
Him,  you  could  perceive,  they  would  serve  ;  but  not  easily 
another  than  him.  These  were  the  subjects  whom  our  brave 
Captain  and  Prison-Governor  was  appointed  to  command,  and 
reclaim  to  other  service,  by  '  the  method  of  love,' with  a  tread- 
wheel  abolished. 

Hopeless  forevermore  such  a  project.  These  abject,  ape, 
wolf,  ox,  imp  and  other  diabolic-animal  specimens  of  human- 
ity, who  of  the  very  gods  could  ever  have  commanded  them 
by  love  ?  A  collar  round  the  neck,  and  a  cartwhip  flourished 
over  the  back  ;  these,  in  a  just  and  steady  human  hand,  were 
what  the  gods  would  have  appointed  them  ;  and  now  when, 
by  long  misconduct  and  neglect,  they  had  sworn  themselves 
into  the  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line,  and  got  the  seal  of  Chaos 
impressed  on  their  visage,  it  was  very  doubtful  whether  even 
these  would  be  of  avail  for  the  unfortunate  commander  of 
Twelve-hundred  men!  By  'love,'  without  hope  except  of 
peaceably  teasing  oakum,  or  fear  except  of  a  temporary  loss 
of  dinner,  he  was  to  guide  these  men,  and  wisely  constrain 
them, — whitherward  ?  No- whither  :  that  was  his  goal,  if  you 
will  think  well  of  it ;  that  was  a  second  fundamental  falsity  in 
his  problem.  False  in  the  warp  and  false  in  the  woof,  thought 
one  of  us  ;  about  as  false  a  problem  as  any  I  have  seen  a  good 


56 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


man  set  upon  lately  !  To  guide  scoundrels  by  '  love  ; '  that  is 
a  false  woof,  I  take  it,  a  method  that  will  not  hold  together  ; 
hardly  for  the  flower  of  men  will  love  alone  do  ;  and  for  the 
sediment  and  scoundrelism  of  men  it  has  not  even  a  chance  to 
do.  And  then  to  guide  any  class  of  men,  scoundrel  or  other, 
No-whither,  which  was  this  poor  Captain's  problem,  in  this 
Prison  with  oakum  for  its  one  element  of  hope  or  outlook, 
how  can  that  prosper  by  '  love  '  or  by  any  conceivable  method  ? 
That  is  a  warp  wholly  false.  Out  of  which  false  warp,  or 
originally  false  condition  to  start  from,  combined  and  daily 
woven  into  by  your  false  woof,  or  methods  of  '  love '  and  such- 
like, there  arises  for  our  poor  Captain  the  falsest  of  problems, 
and  for  a  man  of  his  faculty  the  unfairest  of  situations.  His 
problem  was,  not  to  command  good  men  to  do  something,  but 
bad  men  to  do  (with  superficial  disguises)  nothing. 

On  the  whole,  what  a  beautiful  Establishment  here  fitted- 
up  for  the  accommodation  of  the  scoundrel- world,  male  and 
female !  As  I  said,  no  Duke  in  England  is,  for  all  rational 
purposes  which  a  human  being  can  or  ought  to  aim  at,  lodged, 
fed,  tended,  taken  care  of,  with  such  perfection.  Of  poor  crafts- 
men that  pay  rates  and  taxes  from  their  day's  wages,  of  the 
dim  millions  that  toil  and  moil  continually  under  the  sun,  we 
know  what  is  the  lodging  and  the  tending.  Of  the  Johnsons, 
Goldsmiths,  lodged  in  their  squalid  garrets  ;  working  often 
enough  amid  famine,  darkness,  tumult,  dust  and  desolation, 
what  work  they  have  to  do  : — of  these  as  of  '  spiritual  back- 
woodsmen,' understood  to  be  preappointed  to  such  a  life, 
and  like  the  pigs  to  killing,  'quite  used  to  it,'  I  say  nothing. 
But  of  Dukes,  which  Duke,  I  could  ask,  has  cocoa,  soup,  meat, 
and  food  in  general  made  ready,  so  fit  for  keeping  him  in 
health,  in  ability  to  do  and  to  enjoy  ?  Which  Duke  has  a 
house  so  thoroughly  clean,  pure  and  airy ;  lives  in  an  element  so 
wholesome,  and  perfectly  adapted  to  the  uses  of  soul  and  body 
as  this  same,  which  is  provided  here  for  the  Devil's  regiments 
of  the  line  ?  No  Duke  that  I  have  ever  known.  Dukes  are 
waited-on  by  deleterious  French  cooks,  by  perfunctory  grooms 
of  the  chambers,  and  expensive  crowds  of  eye-servants,  more 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


57 


imaginary  than  real :  while  here,  Science,  Human  Intellect  and 
Beneficence  have  searched  and  sat  studious,  eager  to  do  their 
very  best ;  they  have  chosen  a  real  Artist  in  Governing  to  see 
their  best,  in  all  details  of  it,  done.  Happy  regiments  of  the 
line,  what  soldier  to  any  earthly  or  celestial  Power  has  such  a 
lodging  and  attendance  as  you  here  ?  No  soldier  or  servant 
direct  or  indirect  of  God  or  of  man,  in  this  England  at  present. 
Joy  to  you,  regiments  of  the  line.  Your  Master,  I  am  told, 
has  his  Elect,  and  professes  to  be  '  Prince  of  the  Kingdoms 
of  this  World  ; '  and  truly  I  see  he  has  power  to  do  a  good 
turn  to  those  he  loves,  in  England  at  least.  Shall  we  say, 
May  he,  may  the  Devil  give  you  good  of  it,  ye  Elect  of  Scoun- 
drelism  ?  I  will  rather  pass  by,  uttering  no  prayer  at  all ; 
musing  rather  in  silence  on  the  singular  '  worship  of  God,'  or 
practical '  reverence  done  to  Human  Worth  '  (which  is  the  out- 
come and  essence  of  all  real  '  worship'  whatsoever)  among  the 
posterity  of  Adam  at  this  day. 

For  all  round  this  beautiful  Establishment,  or  Oasis  of  Pu- 
rity, intended  for  the  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line,  lay  conti- 
nents of  dingy  poor  and  dirty  dwellings,  where  the  unfortunate 
not  yet  enlisted  into  that  Force  were  struggling  manifoldly, 
■ — in  their  workshops,  in  their  marble-yards  and  timber-yards 
and  tan-yards,  in  their  close  cellars,  cobbler-stalls,  hungry 
garrets,  and  poor  dark  trade-shops  with  red-herrings  and 
tobacco-pipes  crossed  in  the  window, — to  keep  the  Devil  out- 
of-doors,  and  not  enlist  with  him.  And  it  was  by  a  tax  on 
these  that  the  Barracks  for  the  regiments  of  the  line  were 
kept  up.  Visiting  Magistrates,  impelled  by  Exeter  Hall,  by 
Able-Editors,  and  the  Philanthropic  Movement  of  the  Age, 
had  given  orders  to  that  effect.  Bates  on  the  poor  servant  of 
God  and  of  her  Majesty,  who  still  serves  both  in  his  way, 
painfully  selling  red-herrings  ;  rates  on  him  and  his  red- 
herrings  to  boil  right  soup  for  the  Devil's  declared  Elect ! 
Never  in  my  travels,  in  any  age  or  clime,  had  I  fallen-in  with 
such  Visiting  Magistrates  before.  Beserved  they,  I  should 
suppose,  for  these  ultimate  or  penultimate  ages  of  the  world, 
rich  in  all  prodigies,  political,  spiritual, — ages  surely  with  such 
a  length  of  ears  as  was  never  paralleled  before. 


5S 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


If  I  had  a  commonwealth  to  reform  or  to  govern,  certainly 
it  should  not  be  the  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line  that  I  would 
first  of  all  concentrate  my  attention  on  !  With  them  I  should 
be  apt  to  make  rather  brief  work  ;  to  them  one  would  apply 
the  besom,  try  to  sweep  them  with  some  rapidity  into  the  dust- 
bin, and  well  out  of  one's  road,  I  should  rather  say.  Fill 
your  thrashing-floor  with  docks,  ragweeds,  mugworths,  and 
ply  your  flail  upon  them, — that  is  not  the  method  to  obtain 
sacks  of  wheat.  Away,  you  ;  begone  swiftly,  ye  regiments  of 
the  line  :  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  His  poor  struggling  ser- 
vants, sore  put  to  it  to  live  in  these  bad  days,  I  mean  to  rid 
myself  of  you  with  some  degree  of  brevity.  To  feed  you  in 
palaces,  to  hire  captains  and  schoolmasters  and  the  choicest 
spiritual  and  material  artificers  to  expend  their  industries  on 
3*011, — No,  by  the  Eternal !  I  have  quite  other  work  for  that 
class  of  artists  ;  Seven-and-twenty  Millions  of  neglected  mor- 
tals who  have  not  yet  quite  declared  for  the  Devil.  Mark  it, 
my  diabolic  friends,  I  mean  to  lay  leather  on  the  backs  of  you, 
collars  round  the  necks  of  you  ;  and  will  teach  you,  after  the 
example  of  the  gods,  that  this  world  is  not  your  inheritance, 
or  glad  to  see  you  in  it.  You,  ye  diabolic  canaille,  what  has 
a  Governor  much  to  do  with  you?  You,  I  think,  he  will 
rather  swiftly  dismiss  from  his  thoughts, — which  have  the 
whole  celestial  and  terrestrial  for  their  scope,  and  not  the 
subterranean  of  scoundreldom  alone.  You,  I  consider,  he  will 
sweep  pretty  rapidly  into  some  Norfolk  Island,  into  some 
special  Convict  Colony  or  remote  domestic  Moorland,  into 
some  stone-walled  Silent-System,  under  hard  drill-sergeants, 
just  as  Rhadamanthus,  and  inflexible  as  he,  and  there  leave 
you  to  reap  what  you  have  sown  ;  he  meanwhile  turning  his 
endeavours  to  the  thousandfold  immeasurable  interests  of 
men  and  gods, — dismissing  the  one  extremely  contemjjtiblo 
interest  of  scoundrels  ;  sweeping  that  into  the  cesspool,  tum- 
bling that  over  London  Bridge,  in  a  very  brief  manner,  if 
needf  til !  Who  are  you.  ye  thriftless  sweepings  of  Creation, 
that  we  should  forever  be  pestered  with  you  ?  Have  we  no 
work  to  do  but  drilling  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line? 

If  I  had  schoolmasters,  my  benevolent  friend,  do  you  im- 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


59 


agine  I  would  set  them  on  teaching  a  set  of  unteachables,  who 
as  you  perceive  have  already  made  up  their  mind  that  black  is 
white, — that  the  Devil  namely  is  the  advantageous  Master  to 
serve  in  this  world  ?  My  esteemed  Benefactor  of  Humanity, 
it  shall  be  far  from  me.  Minds  open  to  that  particular  con- 
viction are  not  the  material  I  like  to  work  upon.  When  once 
my  schoolmasters  have  gone  over  all  the  other  classes  of  so- 
ciety from  top  to  bottom  ;  and  have  no  other  soul  to  try  with 
teaching,  all  being  thoroughly  taught, — I  will  then  send  them 
to  operate  on  these  regiments  of  the  line  :  then,  and,  assure 
yourself,  never  till  then.  The  truth  is,  I  am  sick  of  scoun- 
dreldom,  my  esteemed  Benefactor  ;  it  always  was  detestable  to 
me  ;  and  here  where  I  find  it  lodged  in  palaces  and  waited  on 
by  the  benevolent  of  the  world,  it  is  more  detestable,  not  to 
say  insufferable  to  me  than  ever. 

Of  Beneficence,  Benevolence,  and  the  people  that  come  to- 
gether to  talk  on  platforms  and  subscribe  five  pounds,  I  will 
say  nothing  here  ;  indeed  there  is  not  room  here  for  the  twen- 
tieth part  of  what  were  to  be  said  of  them.  The  beneficence, 
benevolence,  and  sublime  virtue  which  issues  in  eloquent  talk 
reported  in  the  Newspapers,  with  the  subscription  of  five 
pounds,  and  the  feeling  that  one  is  a  good  citizen  and  orna- 
ment to  society, — concerning  this,  there  were  a  great  many 
unexpected  remarks  to  be  made  ;  but  let  this  one,  for  the 
present  occasion,  suffice  : 

My  sublime  benevolent  friends,  don't  you  perceive,  for  one 
thing,  that  here  is  a  shockingly  unfruitful  investment  for  your 
capital  of  Benevolence  ;  precisely  the  ivorst,  indeed,  which 
human  ingenuity  could  select  for  you  ?  "  Laws  are  unjust, 
temptations  great,"  &c.  &c.  :  alas,  I  know  it,  and  mourn  for 
it,  and  passionately  call  on  all  men  to  help  in  altering  it.  But 
according  to  every  hypothesis  as  to  the  law,  and  the  tempta- 
tions and  pressures  towards  vice,  here  are  the  individuals  who, 
of  all  the  society,  have  yielded  to  said  pressure.  These  are  of 
the  worst  substance  for  enduring  pressure !  The  others  yet 
stand  and  make  resistance  to  temptation,  to  the  law's  injus- 
tice ;  under  all  the  perversities  and  strangling  impediments 
there  are,  the  rest  of  the  society  still  keep  their  feet  and 


GO 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


struggle  forward,  marching  under  the  banner  of  Cosmos,  of 
God  and  Human  Virtue  ;  these  select  Few,  as  I  explain  to  you, 
are  they  who  have  fallen  to  Chaos,  and  are  sworn  into  certain 
regiments  of  the  line.  A  superior  proclivity  to  Chaos  is  de- 
clared in  these,  by  the  very  fact  of  their  being  here  !  Of  all 
the  generations  we  live  in,  these  are  the  worst  stuff.  These,  I 
say,  are  the  Elixir  of  the  Infatuated  among  living  mortals  :  if 
you  want  the  worst  investment  for  your  Benevolence,  here  you 
accurately  have  it.  O  my  surprising  friends !  Nowhere  so  as 
here  can  you  be  certain  that  a  given  qantity  of  wise  teaching 
bestowed,  of  benevolent  trouble  taken,  will  yield  zero,  or  the 
net  minimum  of  return.  It  is  sowing  of  your  wheat  upon 
Irish  quagmires  ;  laboriously  harrowing  it  in  upon  the  sand  of 
the  sea-shore.    O  my  astonishing  benevolent  friends ! 

Yonder,  in  those  dingy  habitations,  and  shops  of  red-her- 
ring and  tobacco-pipes,  where*  men  have  not  yet  quite  declared 
for  the  Devil ;  there,  I  say,  is  land  :  here  is  mere  sea-beach. 
Thither  go  with  your  benevolence,  thither  to  those  dingy  cav- 
erns of  the  poor  ;  and  there  instruct  and  drill  and  manage, 
there  where  some  fruit  may  come  from  it.  And,  above  all  and 
inclusive  of  all,  cannot  you  go  to  those  Solemn  human  Shams, 
Phantasm  Captains,  and  Supreme  Quacks  that  ride  prosper- 
ously in  every  thoroughfare  ;  and  with  severe  benevolence,  ask 
them,  What  they  are  doing  here  ?  They  are  the  men  whom 
it  would  behove  you  to  drill  a  little,  and  tie  to  the  halberts  in 
a  benevolent  manner,  if  you  could  !  "  We  cannot,"  say  you? 
Yes,  my  friends,  to  a  certain  extent  you  can.  By  many  well- 
known  active  methods,  and  by  all  manner  of  passive  methods, 
you  can.  Strive  thitherward,  I  advise  you ;  thither,  with 
whatever  social  effort  there  may  lie  in  you  !  The  well-head 
and  '  consecrated '  thrice-accursed  chief  fountain  of  all  those 
waters  of  bitterness, — it  is  they,  those  Solemn  Shams  and 
Supreme  Quacks  of  yours,  little  as  they  or  you  imagine  it ! 
Them,  with  severe  benevolence,  put  a  stop  to  ;  them  send  to 
their  Father,  far  from  the  sight  of  the  true  and  just, — if  you 
would  ever  see  a  just  world  here  ! 

What  sort  of  reformers  and  workers  are  you,  that  work 
only  on  the  rotten  material  ?    That  never  think  of  meddling 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


61 


with  the  material  while  it  continues  sound  ;  that  stress  it  and 
strain  it  with  new  rates  and  assessments,  till  once  it  has  given 
way  and  declared  itself  rotten  ;  whereupon  you  snatch  greed- 
ily at  it,  and  say,  Now  let  us  try  to  do  some  good  upon  it ! 
You  mistake  in  every  way,  my  friends  :  the  fact  is,  you  fancy 
yourselves  men  of  virtue,  benevolence,  what  not ;  and  you  are 
not  even  men  of  sincerity  and  honest  sense.  I  grieve  to  say 
it ;  but  it  is  true.  Good  from  you,  and  your  operations,  is 
not  to  be  expected.    You  may  go  down  ! 

Howard  is  a  beautiful  Philanthropist,  eulogised  by  Burke, 
and  in  most  men's  minds  a  sort  of  beatified  individual.  How 
glorious,  having  finished-off  one's  affairs  in  Bedfordshire,  or 
in  fact  finding  them  very  dull,  inane,  and  worthy  of  being 
quitted  and  got  away  from,  to  set  out  on  a  cruise  over  the 
Jails  first  of  Britain  ;  then,  finding  that  answer,  over  the  Jails 
of  the  habitable  Globe !  '  A  voyage  of  discovery,  a  circum- 
navigation of  charity  ;  to  collate  distresses,  to  gauge  wretched- 
ness, to  take  the  dimensions  of  human  misery  : ' — really  it  is 
very  fine.  Captain  Cook's  voyage  for  the  Terra  Australis, 
Ross's,  Franklin's  for  the  ditto  Borealis  :  men  make  various 
cruises  and  voyages  in  this  world, — for  want  of  money,  want 
of  work,  and  one  or  the  other  want, — which  are  attended  with 
their  difficulties  too,  and  do  not  make  the  cruiser  a  demigod. 
On  the  whole,  I  have  myself  nothing  bat  respect,  compara- 
tively speaking,  for  the  dull  solid  Howard,  and  his  '  benevo- 
lence,' and  other  impulses  that  set  him  cruising  ;  Heaven  had 
grown  weary  of  Jail-fevers,  and  other  the  like  wwjust  penalties 
inflicted  upon  scoundrels, — for  scoundrels  too,  and  even  the 
very  Devil,  should  not  have  more  than  their  due  ; — and 
Heaven,  in  its  opulence,  created  a  man  to  make  an  end  of 
that.  Created  him  ;  disgusted  him  with  the  grocer  business  ; 
tried  him  with  Calvinism,  rural  ennui,  and  sore  bereavement 
in  his  Bedfordshire  retreat ; — -and,  in  short,  at  last  got  him  set 
to  his  work,  and  in  a  condition  to  achieve  it.  For  which  I  am 
thankful  to  Heaven  ;  and  do  also,  with  doffed  hat,  humbly 
salute  John  Howard.  A  practical  solid  man,  if  a  dull  and 
even  dreary  ;  '  carries  his  weighing-scales  in  his  pocket : ' 


62 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


when  your  jailor  answers,  1  'The  prisoner's  allowance  of  food 
is  so  and  so  ;  and  we  observe  it  sacredly  ;  here,  for  example, 
is  a  ration." — "  Hey  !  a  ration  this  V  "  and  solid  John  suddenly 
produces  his  weighing-scales  ;  weighs  it,  marks  down  in  his 
tablets  what  the  actual  quantity  of  it  is.  That  is  the  art  and 
manner  of  the  man.  A  man  full  of  English  accuracy  ;  Eng- 
lish veracity,  solidity,  simplicity  ;  by  whom  this  universal 
Jail-commission,  not  to  be  paid  for  in  money  but  far  other- 
wise, is  set  about,  with  all  the  slow  energy,  the  patience, 
practicality,  sedulity  and  sagacity  common  to  the  best  Eng- 
lish commissioners  paid  in  money  and  not  expressly  other- 
wise. 

For  it  is  the  glory  of  England  that  she  has  a  turn  for  fidelity 
in  practical  work  ;  that  sham-workers,  though  very  numerous, 
are  rarer  than  elsewhere  ;  that  a  man  who  undertakes  work 
for  you  will  still,  in  various  provinces  of  our  affairs,  do  it,  in- 
stead of  merely  seeming  to  do  it.  John  Howard,  without  pay 
in  money  did  this  of  the  Jail-fever,  as  other  Englishmen  do 
work,  in  a  truly  workmanlike  manner  :  his  distinction  was 
that  he  did  it  without  money.  He  had  not  500/.  or  5000Z. 
a-year  of  salary  for  it ;  but  lived  merely  on  his  Bedfordshire 
estates,  and  as  Snigsby  irreverently  expresses  it,  '  by  chewing 
his  own  cud.'  And,  sure  enough,  if  any  man  might  chew  the 
cud  of  placid  reflections,  solid  Howard,  a  mournful  man 
otherwise,  might  at  intervals  indulge  a  little  in  that  luxury. 
No  money-salary  had  he  for  his  work  ;  he  had  merely  the  in- 
come of  his  properties,  and  what  he  could  derive  from  within. 
Is  this  such  a  sublime  distinction,  then  ?  Well,  let  it  pass  at 
its  value.  There  have  been  benefactors  of  mankind  who  had 
more  need  of  money  than  he,  and  got  none  too.  Milton,  it  is 
l.nown,  did  his  Paradise  Lost  at  the  easy  rate  of  five  pounds. 
Kepler  worked  out  the  secret  of  the  Heavenly  Motions  in  a 
dreadfully  painful  manner  ;  'going  over  the  calculations  sixty 
times  ;' — and  having  not  only  no  public  money,  but  no  private 
either  ;  and,  in  fact,  writing  almanacs  for  his  bread-and-water, 
while  lie  did  this  of  the  Heavenly  Motions  ;  having  no  Bed- 
fordshire estates;  nothing  but  a  pension  of  18/.  (which  they 
would  not  pay  him),  the  valuable  faculty  of  writing  almanacs, 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


63 


and  at  length  the  invaluable  one  of  dying,  when  the  Heavenly 
bodies  were  vanquished,  and  battle's  conflagration  had  col- 
lapsed into  cold  dark  ashes,  and  the  starvation  reached  too 
high  a  pitch  for  the  poor  man. 

Howard  is  not  the  only  benefactor  that  has  worked  without 
money  for  us  ;  there  have  been  some  more, — and  will  be,  I 
hope !  For  the  Destinies  are  opulent ;  and  send  here  and 
there  a  man  into  the  world  to  do  work,  for  which  they  do  not 
mean  to  pay  him  in  money.  And  they  smite  him  beneficently 
with  sore  afflictions,  and  blight  his  world  all  into  grim  frozen 
ruins  round  him, — and  can  make  a  wandering  Exile  of  their 
Dante,  and  not  a  soft-bedded  Podesta  of  Florence,  if  they  wish 
to  get  a  Divine  Comedy  out  of  him.  Nay  that  rather  is  their 
way,  when  they  have  worthy  work  for  such  a  man  ;  they 
scourge  him  manifoldly  to  the  due  pitch,  sometimes  nearly 
of  despair,  that  he  may  search  desperately  for  his  work,  and 
find  it ;  they  urge  him  on  still  with  beneficent  stripes  when 
needful,  as  is'  constantly  the  case  between  whiles  ;  and,  in 
fact,  have  privately  decided  to  reward  him  with  beneficent 
death  by  and  by,  and  not  with  money  at  all.  O  my  benevo- 
lent friend,  I  honour  Howard  very  much  ;  but  it  is  on  this 
side  idolatry  a  long  way,  not  to  an  infinite,  but  to  a  decidedly 
finite  extent !  And  you, — put  not  the  modest  noble  Howard, 
a  truly  modest  man,  to  the  blush,  by  forcing  these  reflections 
on  us  ! 

Cholera  Doctors,  hired  to  dive  into  black  dens  of  infection 
and  despair,  they,  rushing  about  all  day  from  lane  to  lane,  with 
their  life  in  their  hand,  are  found  to  do  their  function  ;  which 
is  a  much  more  rugged  one  than  Howard's.  Or  what  say  we, 
Cholera  Doctors  ?  Kagged  losels  gathered  by  beat  of  drum 
from  the  overcrowded  streets  of  cities,  and  drilled  a  little  and 
dressed  in  red,  do  not  they  stand  fire  in  an  uncensurable  man- 
ner ;  and  handsomly  give  their  life,  if  needful,  at  the  rate  of 
a  shilling  per  day  ?  Human  virtue,  if  we  went  down  to  the 
roots  of  it,  is  not  so  rare.  The  materials  of  human  virtue  are 
everywhere  abundant  as  the  light  of  the  sun  :  raw  materials, 
— O  woe,  and  loss,  and  scandal  thrice  and  threefold,  that  they 
so  seldom  are  elaborated,  and  built  into  a  result !  that  they 


64 


latter.day  pamphlets. 


lie  yet  unelaborated,  and  stagnant  in  the  souls  of  wide-spread 
dreary  millions,  fermenting,  festering  ;  and  issue  at  last  as 
energetic  vice  instead  of  strong  practical  virtue!  A  Mrs. 
Manning  4  dying  game,' — alas,  is  not  that  the  foiled  potenti- 
ality of  a  kind  of  heroine  too  ?  Not  a  heroic  Judith,  not  a 
mother  of  the  Gracchi  now,  but  a  hideous  murderess,  fit  to  be 
the  mother  of  hyaenas  !  To  such  extent  can  potentialities  be 
foiled.  Education,  kingship,  command, — where  is  it,  whither 
has  it  fled  ?  Woe  a  thousand  times,  that  this,  which  is  the 
task  of  all  kings,  captains,  priests,  public  speakers,  land-own- 
ers, book-writers,  mill-owners,  and  persons  possessing  or  pre- 
tending to  possess  authority  among  mankind, — is  left  neg- 
lected among  them  all ;  and  instead  of  it  so  little  done  but 
protocolling,  black-or-white  surplicing,  partridge-shooting, 
parliamentary  eloquence  and  popular  twaddle-literature  ;  with 
such  results  as  we  see  ! — 

Howard  abated  the  Jail-fever ;  but  it  seems  to  me  he  has 
been  the  innocent  cause  of  a  far  more  distressing  fever  which 
rages  high  just  now  ;  what  we  may  call  the  Benevolent-Plat- 
form Fever.  Howard  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  unlucky  foun- 
tain of  that  tumultuous  frothy  ocean-tide  of  benevolent 
sentimentality,  '  abolition  of  punishment,'  all-absorbing  '  pris- 
on-discipline,' and  general  morbid  sympathy,  instead  of  hearty 
hatred,  for  scoundrels ;  which  is  threatening  to  drown  human 
society  as  in  deluges,  and  leave,  instead  of  an  '  edifice  of  so- 
ciety '  fit  for  the  habitation  of  men,  a  continent  of  fetid  ooze 
inhabitable  only  by  mud-gods  and  creatures  that  walk  upon 
their  belly.  Few  things  more  distress  a  thinking  soul  at  this 
time. 

Most  sick  am  I,  O  friends,  of  this  sugary  disastrous  jargon 
of  philanthropy,  the  reign  of  love,  new  era  of  universal  brother- 
hood, and  not  Paradise  to  the  Well-deserving  but  Paradise  to 
All-and-sundry,  which  possesses  the  benighted  minds  of  men 
and  women  in  our  day.  My  friends,  I  think  you  are  much 
mistaken  about  Paradise!  'No  Paradise  for  anybody:  he 
that  cannot  do  without  Paradise,  go  his  ways  suppose  you 
tried  that  for  a  while  !  I  reckon  that  the  safer  version. — Un- 
happy sugary  brethren,  this  is  all  untrue,  this  other  ;  contrary 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


65 


to  the  fact ;  not  a  tatter  of  it  will  hang  together  in  the  wind 
and  weather  of  fact.  In  brotherhood  with  the  base  and  fool- 
ish I,  for  one,  do  not  mean  to  live.  Not  in  brotherhood  with 
them  was  life  hitherto  worth  much  to  me  ;  in  pity,  in  hope 
not  yet  quite  swallowed  of  disgust, — otherwise  in  enmity  that 
must  last  through  eternity,  in  unappeasable  aversion  shall  I 
have  to  live  with  these  !  Brotherhood  ?  No,  be  the  thought 
far  from  me.  They  are  Adam's  children, — alas  yes,  I  well  re- 
member that,  and  never  shall  forget  it  ;  hence  this  rage  and 
sorrow.  But  they  have  gone  over  to  the  dragons  ;  they  have 
quitted  the  Father's  house,  and  set-up  with  the  Old  Serpent : 
till  they  return,  how  can  they  be  brothers  ?  They  are  enemies, 
deadly  to  themselves  and  to  me  and  to  you,  till  then  ;  till 
then,  while  hope  yet  lasts,  I  will  treat  them  as  brothers  fallen 
insane  ; — when  hope  has  ended,  with  tears  grown  sacred  and 
wrath  grown  sacred,  I  will  cut  them  off  in  the  name  of  God  ! 
It  is  at  my  peril  if  I  do  not.  With  the  servant  of  Satan  I 
dare  not  continue  in  partnership.  Him  I  must  put  away, 
resolutely  and  forever  ;  '  lest,'  as  it  is  written,  '  I  become  par- 
taker of  his  plagues.' 

Beautiful  Black  Peasantry,  who  have  fallen  idle  and  have 
got  the  Devil  at  your  elbow  ;  interesting  White  Felonry,  who 
are  not  idle,  but  have  enlisted  into  the  Devil's  regiments  of  the 
line, — know  that  my  benevolence  for  you  is  comparatively 
trifling !  What  I  have  of  that  divine  feeling  is  due  to  others, 
not  to  you.  A  '  universal  Sluggard-and-Scoundrel  Protection 
Society '  is  not  the  one  I  mean  to  institute  in  these  times, 
where  so  much  wants  protection,  and  is  sinking  to  sad  issues 
for  want  of  it !  The  scoundrel  needs  no  protection.  The 
scoundrel  that  will  hasten  to  the  gallows,  why  not  rather 
clear  the  way  for  him  !  Better  he  reach  kte  goal  and  outgate  by 
the  natural  proclivity,  than  be  so  expensively  dammed-up  and 
detained,  poisoning  everything  as  he  stagnates  and  meanders 
along,  to  arrive  at  last  a  hundred  times  fouler,  and  swollen 
a  hundred  times  bigger  !  Benevolent  men  should  reflect  on 
this. — And  you  Quashee,  my  pumpkin, — (not  a  bad  fellow 
either,  this  poor  Quashee,  when  tolerably  guided  !) — idle 
Quashee,  I  say  you  must  get  the  Devil  sent  away  from  your 
5 


66 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


elbow,  my  poor  dark  friend  !  In  this  world  there  will  be  no 
existence  for  you  otherwise.  No,  not  as  the  brother  of  your 
folly  will  I  live  beside  you.  Please  to  withdraw  out  of  my 
way,  if  I  am  not  to  contradict  your  folly,  and  amend  it,  and 
put  it  in  the  stocks  if  it  will  not  amend.  By  the  Eternal 
Maker,  it  is  on  that  footing  alone  that  you  and  I  can  live  to- 
gether !  And  if  you  had  respectable  traditions  dated  from 
beyond  Magna  Charta,  or  from  beyond  the  Deluge,  to  the 
contrary,  and  written  sheepskins  that  would  thatch  the  face  of 
the  world, — behold  I,  for  one  individual,  do  not  believe  said 
respectable  traditions,  nor  regard  said  written  sheepskins 
except  as  things  which  you,  till  you  grow  wiser,  will  believe. 
Adieu,  Quashee  ;  I  will  wish  you  better  guidance  than  you 
have  had  of  late. 

On  the  whole,  what  a  reflection  is  it  that  we  cannot  bestow 
on  an  unworthy  man  any  particle  of  our  benevolence,  our  pat- 
ronage, or  whatever  resource  is  ours, — without  withdrawing 
it,  it  and  all  that  will  grow  of  it,  from  one  worthy,  to  whom  it 
of  right  belongs  !  We  cannot,  I  say  ;  impossible  ;  it  is  the 
eternal  law  of  things.  Incompetent  Duncan  M'Pastehorn,  the 
hapless  incompetent  mortal  to  whom  I  give  the  cobbling  of  my 
boots, — and  cannot  find  in  my  heart  to  refuse  it,  the  poor 
drunken  wretch  having  a  wife  and  ten  children  ;  he  withdraws 
the  job  from  sober,  plainly  competent,  and  meritorious  Mr. 
Sparrowbill,  generally  short  of  work  too  ;  discourages  Spar- 
rowbill ;  teaches  him  that  he  too  may  as  well  drink  and  loiter 
and  bungle  ;  that  this  is  not  a  scene  for  merit  and  demerit  at 
all,  but  for  dupery,  and  whining  flattery,  and  incompetent  cob- 
bling of  every  description  ; — clearly  tending  to  the  ruin  of  poor 
Sparrowbill !  What  harm  had  Sparrowbill  done  me  that  I 
should  so  help  to  ruin  him  ?  And  I  couldn't  save  the  insalva- 
ble  M'Pastehorn  ;  I  merely  yielded  him,  for  insuflicient  work, 
here  and  there  a  half-crown, — which  he  oftenest  drank.  And 
now  Sparrowbill  also  is  drinking  ! 

Justice,  Justice  :  woe  betides  us  everywhere  when,  for  this 
reason  or  for  that,  we  fail  to  do  justice  !  No  beneficence,  be- 
nevolence, or  other  virtuous  contribution  will  make  good  the 
want.    And  in  what  a  rate  of  terriblo  geometrical  progression, 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


67 


far  beyond  our  poor  computation,  any  act  of  Injustice  once 
done  by  us  grows  ;  rooting  itself  ever  anew,  spreading  ever 
anew,  like  a  banyan-tree, — blasting  all  life  under  it,  for  it  is 
a  poison-tree  !  There  is  but  one  thing  needed  for  the  world  ; 
but  that  one  is  indispensable.  Justice,  Justice,  in  the  name 
of  Heaven  ;  give  us  Justice,  and  we  live  ;  give  us  only  coun- 
terfeits of  it,  or  succedanea  for  it,  and  we  die  ! 

O  this  universal  syllabub  of  philanthropic  twaddle!  My 
friend,  it  is  very  sad,  now  when  Christianity  is  as  good  as  ex- 
tinct in  all  hearts,  to  meet  this  ghastly  Phantasm  of  Christi- 
anity parading  through  almost  all.  "  I  will  clean  your  foul 
thoroughfares,  and  make  your  Devil's-cloaca  of  a  world  into 
a  garden  of  Heaven,"  jabbers  this  Phantasm,  itself  a  phos- 
phorescence and  unclean  !  The  worst,  it  is  written,  comes 
from  corruption  of  the  best : — Semitic  forms  now  lying  putres- 
cent, dead  and  still  unburied,  this  phosphorescence  rises.  I 
say  sometimes,  such  a  blockhead  Idol,  and  miserable  White 
mumbojumbo,  fashioned  out  of  deciduous  sticks  and  cast 
clothes,  out  of  extinct  cants  and  modern  sentimentalisms,  as 
that  which  they  sing  litanies  to  at  Exeter  Hall  and  extensively 
elsewhere,  was  perhaps  never  set-up  by  human  folly  before. 
Unhappy  creatures,  that  is  not  the  Maker  of  the  Universe, 
not  that, — look  one  moment  at  the  Universe,  and  see  !  That 
is  a  paltry  Phantasm,  engendered  in  your  own  sick  brain  ; 
whoever  follows  that  as  a  Eeality  will  fall  into  the  ditch. 

Reform,  reform,  all  men  see  and  feel,  is  imperatively 
needed.  Reform  must  either  be  got,  and  speedily,  or  else  we 
die  :  and  nearly  all  the  men  that  speak,  instruct  us,  saying, 
"  Have  you  quite  done  your  interesting  Negroes  in  the  Sugar 
Islands  ?  Rush  to  the  Jails,  then,  O  ye  reformers  ;  snatch-up 
the  interesting  scoundrel-population  there,  to  them  be  nurs- 
ing-fathers and  nursing-mothers.  And  O  wash,  and  dress, 
and  teach,  and  recover  to  the  service  of  Heaven  these  poor 
lost  souls  :  so,  we  assure  you,  will  society  attain  the  need- 
ful reform,  and  life  be  still  possible  in  this  world."  Thus 
sing  the  oracles  everywhere  ;  nearly  all  the  men  that  speak, 
—though  we  doubt  not,  there  are,  as  usual,  immense  majori- 


GS 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


ties  consciously  or  unconsciously  wiser  who  hold  their  tongue. 
But  except  this  of  whitewashing  the  scoundrel-population,  one 
sees  little  1  reform  '  going  on.  There  is  perhaps  some  endeav- 
our to  do  a  little  scavengering  ;  and,  as  the  all-including 
point,  to  cheapen  the  terrible  cost  of  Government :  bat  neither 
of  these  enterprises  makes  progress,  owing  to  impediments. 

"  Whitewash  your  scoundrel-population  ;  sweep-out  your 
abominable  gutters  (if  not  in  the  name  of  God,  ye  brutish 
slatterns,  then  in  the  name  of  Cholera  and  the  Koyal  Col- 
lege of  Surgeons)  :  do  these  two  things  ; — and  observe,  much 
cheaper  if  you  please  !  " — Well,  here  surely  is  an  Evangel  of 
Freedom,  and  real  Program  of  a  new  Era.  What  surliest 
misanthrope  would  not  find  this  world  lovely,  were  these 
things  done  :  scoundrels  whitewashed  ;  some  degree  of  scav- 
engering upon  the  gutters ;  and  at  a  cheap  rate,  thirdly  ? 
That  surely  is  an  occasion  on  which,  if  ever  on  any,  the 
Genius  of  Reform  may  pipe  all  hands  ! — Poor  old  Genius  of 
Reform  ;  bedrid  this  good  while  ;  with  little  but  broken  bal- 
lot-boxes, and  tattered  stripes  of  Benthamee  Constitutions 
lying  round  him  ;  and  on  the  walls  mere  shadows  of  clothing- 
colonels,  rates-in-aid,  poor-law  unions,  defunct  potato  and  the 
Irish  difficulty, — he  does  not  seem  long  for  this  world,  piping 
to  that  effect? 


Not  the  least  disgusting  feature  of  this  Gospel  according 
to  the  Platform  is  its  reference  to  religion,  and  even  to  the 
Christian  Religion,  as  an  authority  and  mandate  for  what  it 
does.  Christian  Religion  ?  Does  the  Christian  or  any  relig- 
ion prescribe  love  of  scoundrels,  then  ?  I  hope  it  j^rescribes 
a  healthy  hatred  of  scoundrels  ;— otherwise  what  am  I,  in 
Heaven's  name,  to  make  of  it?  Me,  for  one,  it  will  not  serve 
as  a  religion  on  those  strange  terms.  Just  hatred  of  scoun- 
drels, I  say  ;  fixed,  irreconcilable,  inexorable  enmity  to  the 
enemies  of  God  :  this,  and  not  love  for  them,  and  incessant 
whitewashing,  and  dressing  and  cockering  of  them,  must,  if 
you  look  into  it,  be  the  backbone  of  any  human  religion  what- 
soever.   Christian  Religion !    In  what  words  can  I  address 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


you,  ye  unfortunates,  sunk  in  the  slushy  ooze  till  the  worship 
of  mud-serpents,  and  unutterable  Pythons  and  poisonous 
slimy  monstrosities,  seems  to  you  the  worship  of  God  ?  This 
is  the  rotten  carcass  of  Christianity ;  this  malodorous  phos- 
phorescence of  jJost-mor'tem  sentimentalism.  O  Heavens,  from 
the  Christianity  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  wrestling  in  grim  fight 
with  Satan  and  his  incarnate  Blackguardisms,  Hypocrisies, 
Injustices,  and  legion  of  human  and  infernal  angels,  to  that 
of  eloquent  Mr.  Hesperus  Fiddlestring  denouncing  capital 
punishments,  and  inculcating  the  benevolences  on  platforms, 
what  a  road  have  we  travelled ! 

A  foolish  stump-orator,  perorating  on  his  platform  mere  be- 
nevolences, seems  a  pleasant  object  to  many  persons  ;  a  harm- 
less or  insignificant  one  to  almost  all.  Look  at  him,  however  ; 
scan  him  till  you  discern  the  nature  of  him,  he  is  not  pleas- 
ant, but  ugly  and  perilous.  That  beautiful  speech  of  his 
takes  captive  every  long  ear,  and  kindles  into  quasi-sacred 
enthusiasm  the  minds  of  not  a  few  ;  but  it  is  quite  in  the 
teeth  of  the  everlasting  facts  of  this  Universe,  and  will  come 
only  to  mischief  for  every  party  concerned.  Consider  that 
little  spouting  wretch.  "Within  the  paltry  skin  of  him,  it  is 
too  probable,  he  holds  few  human  virtues,  beyond  those  es- 
sential for  digesting  victual :  envious,  cowardly,  vain,  splene- 
tic hungry  soul ;  what  heroism,  in  word  or  thought  or  action, 
will  you  ever  get  from  the  like  of  him  ?  He,  in  his  necessity, 
has  taken  into  the  benevolent  line  ;  warms  the  cold  vacuity 
of  his  inner  man  to  some  extent,  in  a  comfortable  manner,  not 
by  silently  doing  some  virtue  of  his  own,  but  by  fiercely 
recommending  hearsay  pseudo-virtues  and  respectable  benevo- 
lences to  other  people.  Do  you  call  that  a  good  trade  ?  Long- 
eared  fellow-creatures,  more  or  less  resembling  himself,  an- 
swer, "  Hear,  hear  !  Live  Fidcllestring  forever  ! "  Wherefrom 
follow  Abolition  Congresses,  Odes  to  the  Gallows  ; — perhaps 
some  dirty  little  Bill,  getting  itself  debated  next  Session  in 
Parliament,  to  waste  certain  nights  of  our  legislative  Year, 
and  cause  skipping  in  our  Morning  Newspaper,  till  the  abor- 
tion can  be  emptied  out  again  and  sent  fairly  floating  down 
the  gutters. 


70 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


Not  with  entire  approbation  do  I,  for  one,  look  on  that 
eloquent  individual.  Wise  benevolence,  if  it  had  authority, 
would  order  that  individual,  I  believe,  to  find  some  other 
trade  :  "  Eloquent  individual,  pleading  here  against  the  Laws 
of  Nature, — for  many  reasons,  I  bid  thee  close  that  mouth 
of  thine.  Enough  of  balderdash  these  long-eared  have  now 
drunk.  Depart  thou  ;  do  some  benevolent  work  ;  at  lowest, 
be  silent.  Disappear,  I  say  ;  away,  and  jargon  no  more  in 
that  manner,  lest  a  worst  thing  befal  thee."  Exeat  Fiddle- 
string  ! — Beneficent  men  are  not  they  who  appear  on  platforms, 
pleading  against  the  Almighty  Maker's  Laws  ;  these  are  the 
maleficent  men,  whose  lips  it  is  pity  that  some  authority  can- 
not straightway  shut.  Pandora's  Box  is  not  more  baleful  than 
the  gifts  these  eloquent  benefactors  are  pressing  on  us.  Close 
your  pedlar 's-pack,  my  friend  ;  swift,  away  with  it !  Perni- 
cious, fraught  with  mere  woe  and  sugary  poison  is  that  kind 
of  benevolence  and  beneficence. 

Truly,  one  of  the  saddest  sights  in  these  times  is  that  of 
poor  creatures,  on  platforms,  in  parliaments  and  other  situa- 
tions, making  and  unmaking  '  Laws ; '  in  whose  soul,  full  of 
mere  vacant  hearsay  and  windy  babble,  is  and  was  no  image 
of  Heaven's  Law  ;  whom  it  never  struck  that  Heaven  had  a 
Law,  or  that  the  Earth — could  not  have  what  kind  of  Law 
you  please  !  Human  Statute-books,  accordingly,  are  growing 
horrible  to  think  of.  An  impiety  and  poisonous  futility  every 
Law  of  them  that  is  so  made  ;  all  Nature  is  against  it ;  it  will 
and  can  do  nothing  but  mischief  wheresoever  it  shows  itself 
in  Nature  :  and  such  Laws  lie  now  like  an  incubus  over  this 
Earth,  so  innumerable  are  they.  How  long,  O  Lord,  how 
long  ! — O  ye  Eternities,  Divine  Silences,  do  you  dwell  no 
more,  then,  in  the  hearts  of  the  noble  and  the  true  ;  and  is 
there  no  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  any  more  vouchsafed  us  ? 
The  inspiration  of  the  Morning  Newspapers — alas,  we  have 
had  enough  of  that,  and  are  arrived  at  the  gates  of  death  by 
means  of  that ! 

"  Really,  one  of  the  most  difficult  questions  this  we  have 
in  these  times,  What  to  do  with  our  criminals  ?  "  blandly  ob- 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


71 


served  a  certain  Law-dignitary,  in  my  hearing  once,  taking 
the  cigar  from  his  mouth,  and  pensively  smiling  over  a  group 
of  us  under  the  summer  beech-tree,  as  Favonius  carried  off 
the  tobacco-smoke  ;  and  the  group  said  nothing,  only  smiled 
and  nodded,  answering  by  new  tobacco-clouds.  "  What  to  do 
with  our  criminals  ?  "  asked  the  official  Law-dignitary  again, 
as  if  entirely  at  a  loss. — "I  suppose,"  said  one  ancient  figure 
not  engaged  in  smoking,  "  the  plan  would  be  to  treat  them 
according  to  the  real  law  of  the  case  ;  to  make  the  Law  of 
England,  in  respect  of  them,  correspond  to  the  Law  of  the 
Universe.  Criminals,  I  suppose,  would  prove  manageable  in 
that  way  :  if  we  could  do  approximately  as  God  Almighty 
does  towards  them  ;  in  a  word,  if  we  could  try  to  do  Justice 
towards  them." — "I'll  thank  you  for  a  definition  of  Justice  ?" 
sneered  the  official  person  in  a  cheerily  scornful  and  trium- 
phant manner,  backed  by  a  slight  laugh  from  the  honourable 
company  ;  which  irritated  the  other  speaker. — "  Well,  I  have 
no  pocket-definition  of  Justice,"  said  he,  "  to  give  your  Lord- 
ship. It  has  not  quite  been  my  trade  to  look  for  such  a 
definition  ;  I  could  rather  fancy  it  had  been  your  Lordship's 
trade,  sitting  on  your  high  place  this  long  while.  But  one 
thing  I  can  tell  you  :  Justice  always  is,  whether  we  define  it 
or  not.  Everything  done,  suffered  or  proposed,  in  Parlia- 
ment or  out  of  it,  is  either  just  or  else  unjust ;  either  is  ac- 
cepted by  the  gods  and  eternal  facts,  or  is  rejected  by  them. 
Your  Lordship  and  I,  with  or  without  definition,  do  a  little 
know  Justice,  I  will  hope  ;  if  we  don't  both  know  it  and  do  it, 
we  are  hourly  travelling  down  towards — Heavens,  must  I  name 
such  a  place  !  That  is  the  place  we  are  bound  to,  with  all  our 
trading-pack,  and  the  small  or  extensive  budgets  of  human 
business  laid  on  us  ;  and  there,  if  we  dont  know  Justice,  we, 
and  all  our  budgets  and  Acts  of  Parliament,  shall  find  lodging 
when  the  day  is  done  ! " — The  official  person,  a  polite  man 
otherwise,  grinned  as  he  best  could  some  semblance  of  a  laugh, 
mirthful  as  that  of  the  ass  eating  thistles,  and  ended  in  "  Hah, 
oh,  ah !  "— 

Indeed,  it  is  wonderful  to  hear  what  account  we  at  present 
give  ourselves  of  the  punishment  of  criminals.    No  1  revenge  ' 


72 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


— O  Heavens,  no  ;  all  preachers  on  Sunday  strictly  forbid 
that ;  and  even  (at  least  on  Sundays)  prescribe  the  contrary  of 
that.  It  is  for  the  sake  of  '  example,'  that  you  punish ;  to  '  pro- 
tect society '  and  its  purse  and  skin  ;  to  deter  the  innocent 
from  falling  into  crime  ;  and  especially  withal,  for  the  purpose 
of  improving  the  poor  criminal  himself, — or  at  lowest,  of  hang- 
ing and  ending  him,  that  he  may  not  grow  worse.  For  the 
poor  criminal  is  to  be  1  improved '  if  possible  :  against  him  no 
'  revenge  '  even  on  weekdays  ;  nothing  but  love  for  him,  and 
pity  and  help  ;  poor  fellow,  is  he  not  miserable  enough?  Very 
miserable, — though  much  less  so  than  the  Master  of  him, 
called  Satan,  is  understood  (on  Sundays)  to  have  long  deserv- 
edly been  ! 

My  friends,  will  you  permit  me  to  say  that  all  this,  to  one 
poor  judgment  among  your  number,  is  the  mournfullest  twad- 
dle that  human  tongues  could  shake  from  them  ;  that  it  has 
no  solid  foundation  in  the  nature  of  things  ;  and  to  a  healthy 
human  heart  no  credibility  whatever?  Permit  me  to  say,  only 
to  hearts  long  drowned  in  dead  Tradition,  and  for  themselves 
neither  believing  nor  disbelieving,  could  this  seem  credible. 
Think,  and  ask  yourselves,  in  spite  of  all  this  preaching  and 
perorating  from  the  teeth  outward !  Hearts  that  are  quite 
strangers  to  eternal  Fact,  and  acquainted  only  at  all  hours  with 
temporary  Semblances  parading  about  in  a  prosperous  and 
persuasive  condition  ;  heartis  that  from  their  first  appearance 
in  this  world  have  breathed  since  birth,  in  all  spiritual  matters, 
which  means  in  all  matters  not  pecuniary,  the  poisonous  at- 
mosphere of  universal  Cant,  could  believe  such  a  thing.  Cant 
moral,  Cant  religious,  Cant  political  ;  an  atmosphere  which 
envelops  all  things  for  us  unfortunates,  and  has  long  done  ; 
which  goes  beyond  the  Zenith  and  below  the  Nadir  for  us,  and 
has  as  good  as  choked  the  spiritual  life  out  of  all  of  us, — God 
pity  such  wretches,  with  little  or  nothing  real  about  them  but 
their  purse  and  their  abdominal  department !  Hearts,  alas, 
which  everywhere  except  in  the  metallurgic  and  cottonspinning 
provinces,  have  communed  with  no  Reality,  or  awful  Presence 
of  a  Fact,  godlike  or  diabolic,  in  this  Universe  or  this  un- 
fathomable Life  at  all.    Hunger-stricken  asphyxied  hearts, 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


73 


which  have  nourished  themselves  on  what  they  call  religions, 
Christian  religions.  Good  Heaven,  once  more  fancy  the  Chris- 
tian religion  of  Oliver  Cromwell ;  or  of  some  noble  Christian 
man,  whom  you  yourself  may  have  been  blessed  enough,  once, 
long  since,  in  your  life,  to  know  !  These  are  not  untrue  re- 
ligions ;  they  are  the  putrescences  and  foul  residues  of  religions 
that  are  extinct,  that  have  plainly  to  every  honest  nostril  been 
dead  some  time,  and  the  remains  of  which — O  ye  eternal 
Heavens,  will  the  nostril  never  be  delivered  from  them  ! — Such 
hearts,  when  they  get  upon  platforms,  and  into  questions 
not  involving  money,  can  '  believe  '  many  things ! — 

I  take  the  liberty  of  asserting  that  there  is  one  valid  reason, 
and  only  one,  for  either  punishing  a  man  or  rewarding  him  in 
this  world  ;  one  reason,  which  ancient  piety  could  well  define : 
That  you  may  do  the  will  and  commandment  of  God  with  re- 
gard to  him  ;  that  you  may  do  justice  to  him.  This  is  your 
one  true  aim  in  respect  of  him  ;  aim  thitherward,  with  all  your 
heart  and  all  your  strength  and  all  your  soul ;  thitherward,  and 
not  elsewhither  at  all !  This  aim  is  true,  and  will  carry  you 
to  all  earthly  heights  and  benefits,  and  beyond  the  stars  and 
Heavens.  All  other  aims  are  purblind,  illegitimate,  untrue  ; 
and  will  never  carry  you  beyond  the  shop-counter,  nay  very 
soon  will  prove  themselves  incapable  of  maintaining  you  even 
there.  Find  out  what  the  Law  of  God  is  with  regard  to  a 
man  ;  make  that  your  human  law,  or  I  saj"  it  will  be  ill  with 
you,  and  not  well !  If  you  love  your  thief  or  murderer,  if 
Nature  and  eternal  Fact  love  him,  then  do  as  you  are  now  do- 
ing. But  if  Nature  and  Fact  do  not  love  him  ?  If  they  have 
set  inexorable  penalties  upon  him,  and  planted  natural  wrath 
against  him  in  every  god-created  human  heart, — then  I  advise 
yon,  cease,  and  change  your  hand. 

Reward  and  punishment?  Alas,  alas,  I  must  say  you  re- 
ward and  punish  pretty  much  alike  !  Your  dignities,  peerages, 
promotions,  your  kingships,  your  brazen  statues  erected  in 
capital  and  county  towns  to  our  select  demigods  of  your  select- 
ing, testify  loudly  enough  what  kind  of  heroes  and  hero-wor- 
shippers you  are.  Woe  to  the  People  that  no  longer  venerates, 
as  the  emblem  of  God  himself,  the  aspect  of  Human  Worth ; 


74 


LATTER  DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


that  no  longer  knows  what  human  worth  and  unworth  is! 
Sure  as  the  Decrees  of  the  Eternal,  that  People  cannot  come 
to  good.  By  a  course  too  clear,  by  a  necessity  too  evident 
that  People  will  come  into  the  hands  of  the  unworthy  ;  and 
either  turn  on  its  bad  career,  or  stagger  downwards  to  ruin 
and  abolition.  Does  the  Hebrew  People  prophetically  sing 
"  Ou'  clo  ' !  "  in  all  thoroughfares,  these  eighteen  hundred 
years  in  vain  ? 

To  reward  men  according  to  their  worth  :  alas,  the  perfec- 
tion of  this,  wre  know,  amounts  to  the  millennium  !  Neither  is 
perfect  punishment,  according  to  the  like  rule,  to  be  attained, 
— nor  even,  by  a  legislator  of  these  chaotic  days,  to  be  too 
zealously  attempted.  But  when  he  does  attempt  it, — yes,  when 
he  summons  out  the  Society  to  sit  deliberative  on  this  matter, 
and  consult  the  oracles  upon  it,  and  solemnly  settle  it  in  the 
name  of  God  ;  then,  if  never  before,  he  should  try  to  be  a  little 
in  the  right  in  settling  it ! — In  regard  to  reward  of  merit,  I  do 
not  bethink  me  of  any  attempt  whatever,  worth  calling  an  at- 
tempt, on  the  part  of  modern  Governments  ;  which  surely  is 
an  immense  oversight  on  their  part,  and  will  one  day  be  seen 
to  have  been  an  altogether  fatal  one.  But  as  to  the  punish- 
ment of  crime,  happily  this  cannot  be  quite  neglected.  When 
men  have  a  purse  and  a  skin,  they  seek  salvation  at  least  for 
these  ;  and  the  Four  Pleas  of  the  Crown  are  a  thing  that 
must  and  will  be  attended  to.  By  punishment,  capital  or 
other,  by  treadmilling  and  blind  rigour,  or  by  whitewashing 
and  blind  laxity,  the  extremely  disagreeable  offences  of  theft 
and  murder  must  be  kept  down  within  limits. 

And  so  you  take  criminal  caitiffs,  murderers,  and  the  like, 
and  hang  them  on  gibbets  '  for  an  example  to  deter  others.' 
Whereupon  arise  friends  of  humanity,  and  object.  With  very 
great  reason,  as  I  consider,  if  your  hypothesis  be  correct. 
What  right  have  you  to  hang  any  poor  creature  '  for  an  exam- 
ple'? He  can  turn  round  upon  you  and  say,  "Why  make  an 
*  example  '  of  me,  a  merely  ill-situated,  pitiable  man  ?  Have 
you  no  more  respect  for  misfortune  ?  Misfortune,  I  have  been 
told,  is  sacred.  And  yet  you  hang  me,  now  I  am  fallen  into 
your  hands  ;  choke  the  life  out  of  me,  for  an  example  !  Again 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


75 


I  ask,  Why  make  an  example  of  me,  for  your  own  convenience 
alone  ?  " — All  '  revenge  '  being  out  of  the  question,  it  seems  to 
me  the  caitiff  is  unanswerable  ;  and  he  and  the  philanthropic 
platforms  have  the  logic  all  on  their  side. 

The  one  answer  to  him  is  :  "  Caitiff,  we  hate  thee  ;  and  dis- 
cern for  some  six  thousand  years  now,  that  we  are  called  upon 
by  the  whole  Universe  to  do  it.  Not  with  a  diabolic  but  with 
a  divine  hatred.  God  himself,  we  have  always  understood, 
'hates  sin,' with  a  most  authentic,  celestial,  and  eternal  hatred. 
A  hatred,  a  hostility  inexorable,  unappeasable,  which  blasts 
the  scoundrel,  and  all  scoundrels  ultimately,  into  black  annihi- 
lation and  disappearance  from  the  sum  of  things.  The  path 
of  it  as  the  path  of  a  flaming  sword  :  he  that  has  eyes  may  see 
it,  walking  inexorable,  divinely  beautiful  and  divinely  terrible, 
through  the  chaotic  gulf  of  Human  History,  and  everywhere 
burning,  as  with  unquenchable  fire,  the  false  and  death-worthy 
from  the  true  and  life-worthy  ;  making  all  Human  History, 
and  the  Biography  of  every  man,  a  God's  Cosmos  in  place  of 
a  Devil's  Chaos.  So  is  it,  in  the  end  ;  even  so,  to  every  man 
who  is  a  man,  and  not  a  mutinous  beast,  and  has  eyes  to  see. 
To  thee,  caitiff,  these  things  were  and  are,  quite  incredible  ; 
to  us  they  are  too  awfully  certain, — the  Eternal  Law  of  this 
Universe,  whether  thou  and  others  will  believe  it  or  disbelieve. 
We,  not  to  be  partakers  in  thy  destructive  adventure  of  defy- 
ing God  and  all  the  Universe,  dare  not  allow  thee  to  continue 
longer  among  us.  As  a  palpable  deserter  from  the  ranks 
where  all  men,  at  their  eternal  peril,  are  bound  to  be  :  palpa- 
ble deserter,  taken  with  the  red  hand  fighting  thus  against 
the  whole  Universe  and  its  Laws,  we — send  thee  back  into 
the  whole  Universe,  solemnly  expel  thee  from  our  community  ; 
and  will,  in  the  name  of  God,  not  with  joy  and  exultation,  but 
with  sorrow  stern  as  thy  own,  hang  thee  on  Wednesday  next, 
and  so  end." 

Other  ground  on  which  to  deliberately  slay  a  disarmed 
fellow-man  I  can  see  none.  Example,  effects  upon  the  public 
mind,  effects  upon  this  and  upon  that :  all  this  is  mere  append- 
age and  accident ;  of  all  this  I  make  no  attempt  to  keep  ac- 
count,— sensible  that  no  arithmetic  will  or  can  keep  account 


76 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


of  it ;  that  its  c  effects, '  on  this  hand  and  on  that,  transcend 
all  calculation.  One  thing,  if  I  can  calculate  it,  will  include 
all,  and  produce  beneficial  effects  beyond  calculation,  and  no 
ill  effect  at  all,  anywhere  or  at  any  time  :  What  the  Law  of  the 
Universe,  or  Law  of  God,  is  with  regard  to  this  caitiff?  That, 
by  all  sacred  research  and  consideration,  I  will  try  to  find  out ; 
to  that  I  will  come  as  near  as  human  means  admit ;  that  shall 
be  my  exemplar  and  f  example  ; '  all  men  shall  through  me 
see  that,  and  be  profited  beyond  calculation  by  seeing  it. 

What  this  Law  of  the  Universe,  or  Law  made  by  God,  is  ? 
Men  at  one  time  read  it  in  their  Bible.  In  many  Bibles, 
Books,  and  authentic  symbols  and  monitions  of  Nature  and  the 
Word  (of  Fact,  that  is,  and  of  Human  Speech,  or  Wise  Inter- 
pretation of  Fact),  there  are  still  clear  indications  towards  it. 
Most  important  it  is,  for  this  and  for  some  other  reasons,  that 
men  do,  in  some  way,  get  to  see  it  a  little  !  And  if  no  man 
could  now  see  it  by  any  Bible,  there  is  written  in  the  heart  of 
every  man  an  authentic  copy  of  it  direct  from  Heaven  itself : 
there,  if  he  have  learnt  to  decipher  Heaven's  writing,  and  can 
read  the  sacred  oracles  (a  sad  case  for  him  if  he  altogether 
cannot),  every  born  man  may  still  find  some  copy  of  it. 

'  Revenge,'  my  friends  !  revenge,  and  the  natural  hatred  of 
scoundrels,  and  the  ineradicable  tendency  to  revanche r  oneself 
upon  them,  and  pay  them  what  they  have  merited  ;  this  is  for- 
evermore  intrinsically  a  correct,  and  even  a  divine  feeling  in 
the  mind  of  every  man.  Only  the  excess  of  it  is  diabolic  ; 
the  essence  I  say  is  manlike,  and  even  godlike, — a  monition, 
sent  to  poor  man  by  the  Maker  himself.  Thou,  poor  reader, 
in  spite  of  all  this  melancholy  twaddle,  and  blotting  out  of 
Heaven's  sunlight  by  mountains  of  horsehair  and  officiality, 
hast  still  a  human  heart.  If,  in  returning  to  thy  poor  peace- 
able dwelling-place,  after  an  honest  hard  day's  work,  thou 
wert  to  find,  for  example,  a  brutal  scoundrel  who  for  lucre  or 
other  object  of  his,  had  slaughtered  the  life  that  was  dearest 
to  thee  ;  thy  true  wife,  for  example,  thy  true  old  mother,  swim- 
ming  in  her  blood  ;  the  humim  scoundrel,  or  two-legged  wolf, 
standing  over  such  a  tragedy  :  I  hope  a  man  would  have  so 
much  divine  rage  in  his  heart  as  to  snatch  the  nearest  weapon, 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


77 


and  put  a  conclusion  upon  said  human  wolf,  for  one  !  A  pal- 
pable messenger  of  Satan,  that  one  ;  accredited  by  all  the 
Devils,  to  be  put  an  end  to  by  all  the  children  of  God.  The 
soul  of  every  god -created  man  flames  wholly  into  one  divine 
blaze  of  sacred  wrath  at  sight  of  such  a  Devil's  messenger  ;  au- 
thentic first-hand  monition  from  the  Eternal  Maker  himself 
as  to  what  is  next  to  be  done.  Do  it,  or  be  thyself  an  ally  of 
Devil's-messengers  ;  a  sheep  for  two-legged  human  wolves, 
well  deserving  to  be  eaten,  as  thou  soon  wilt  be ! 

My  humane  friends,  I  perceive  this  same  sacred  glow  of 
divine  wrath,  or  authentic  monition  at  first  hand  from  God 
himself,  to  be  the  foundation  for  all  Criminal  Law,  and  Official 
horsehair-and-bombazeen  procedure  against  Scoundrels  in  this 
world.  This  first-hand  gospel  from  the  Eternities,  imparted  to 
every  mortal,  this  is  still,  and  will  forever  be,  your  sanction 
and  commission  for  the  punishment  of  human  scoundrels.  See 
well  how  you  will  translate  this  message  from  Heaven  and  the 
Eternities  into  a  form  suitable  to  this  World  and  its  Times. 
Let  not  violence,  haste,  blind  impetuous  impulse,  preside  in 
executing  it ;  the  injured  man,  invincibly  liable  to  fall  into 
these,  shall  not  himself  execute  it :  the  whole  world,  in  per- 
son of  a  Minister  appointed  for  that  end,  and  surrounded 
with  the  due  solemnities  and  caveats,  with  bailiffs,  apparitors, 
advocates,  and  the  hushed  expectation  of  all  men,  shall  do  it, 
as  under  the  eye  of  God  who  made  all  men.  How  it  shall  be 
done  ?  this  is  ever  a  vast  question,  involving  immense  consid- 
erations. Thus  Edmund  Burke  saw,  in  the  Two  Houses  of 
Parliament,  with  King,  Constitution,  and  all  manner  of  Civil- 
Lists,  and  Chancellors'  wigs  and  Exchequer  budgets,  only  the 
*  method  of  getting  twelve  just  men  put  into  a  jury-box : ' 
that,  in  Burke's  view,  was  the  summary  of  what  they  were  all 
meant  for.  How  the  judge  will  do  it?  Yes,  indeed: — but 
let  him  see  well  that  he  does  do  it ;  for  it  is  a  thing  that  must 
by  no  means  be  left  undone  !  A  sacred  gospel  from  the 
Highest :  not  to  be  smothered  under  horsehair  and  bomba- 
zeen,  or  drowned  in  platform  froth,  or  in  airywise  omitted  or 
neglected,  without  the  most  alarming  penalties  to  all  con- 
cerned ! 


78 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


Neglect  to  treat  the  hero  as  hero,  the  penalties, — which 
are  inevitable  too,  and  terrible  to  think  of,  as  your  Hebrew 
friends  can  tell  you, — may  be  some  time  in  coming  ;  they  will 
only  gradually  come.  Not  all  at  once  will  your  thirty-thou- 
sand Needlewomen,  your  Three-million  Paupers,  your  Con- 
naught  fallen  into  potential  Cannibalism,  and  other  fine  con- 
sequences of  the  practice,  come  to  light ; — though  come  to 
light  they  will  ;  and  "  Ou'  clo' !  "  itself  may  be  in  store  for 
you,  if  you  persist  steadily  enough.  But  neglect  to  treat  even 
your  declared  scoundrel  as  scoundrel,  this  is  the  last  consum- 
mation of  the  process,  the  drop  by  which  the  cup  runs  over  ; 
the  penalties  of  this,  most  alarming,  extensive,  and  such  as 
you  little  dream  of,  will  straightway  very  rapidly  come.  Dim 
oblivion  of  Right  and  Wrong,  among  the  masses  of  your  pop- 
ulation, will  come  ;  doubts  as  to  Right  and  Wrong,  indistinct 
notion  that  Right  and  Wrong  are  not  eternal,  but  accidental, 
and  settled  by  uncertain  votings  and  talkings,  will  come. 
Prurient  influenza  of  Platform  Benevolence,  and  '  Paradise  to 
All-and-sundry,'  will  come.  In  the  general  putrescence  of  your 
'religions,'  as  you  call  them,  a  strange  new  religion,  named  of 
Universal  Love,  with  Sacraments  mainly  of  Divorce,  with  Bal- 
zac, Sue  and  Company  for  Evangelists,  and  Madame  Sand  for 
Virgin,  will  come, — and  results  fast  following  therefrom  which 
will  astonish  you  very  much  ! 

'  The  terrible  anarchies  of  these  years,'  says  Crabbe,  in  his 
Radiator,  1  are  brought  upon  us  by  a  necessity  too  visible.  By 
the  crime  of  Kings, — alas,  yes  ;  but  by  that  of  Peoples  too. 
Not  by  the  crime  of  one  class,  but  by  the  fatal  obscuration, 
and  all  but  obliteration  of  the  sense  of  Right  and  Wrong  in 
the  minds  and  practices  of  every  class.  What  a  scene  in  the 
drama  of  Universal  History,  this  of  ours  !  A  world-wide  loud 
bellow  and  bray  of  universal  Misery  ;  lowing,  with  crushed 
maddened  heart,  its  inarticulate  prayer  to  Heaven  : — very  par- 
donable to  me,  and  in  some  of  its  transcendent  developments, 
as  in  the  grand  French  Revolution,  most  respectable  and 
ever-memorable.  For  Injustice  reigns  everywhere  ;  and  this 
murderous  struggle  for  what  they  call  "Fraternity,"  and  so 
forth,  has  a  spice  of  eternal  sense  in  it,  though  so  terribly  dis- 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


71) 


figured  !  Amalgam  of  sense  and  nonsense  ;  eternal  sense  "by 
the  grain,  and  temporary  nonsense  by  the  square  mile  :  as  is 
the  habit  with  poor  sons  of  men.  Which  pardonable  amal- 
gam, however,  if  it  be  taken  as  the  pure  final  sense,  I  must 
warn  you  and  all  creatures,  is  unpardonable,  criminal,  and 
fatal  nonsense  ; — with  which  I,  for  one,  will  take  care  not  to 
concern  myself! 

'  Dogs  should  not  be  taught  to  eat  leather,  says  the  old  adage  : 
no  ; — and  where,  by  general  fault  and  error,  and  the  inevita- 
ble nemesis  of  things,  the  universal  kennel  is  set  to  diet  upon 
leather ;  and  from  its  keepers,  its  "Liberal  Premiers,"  or 
whatever  their  title  is,  will  accept  or  expect  nothing  else,  and 
calls  it  by  the  pleasant  name  of  progress,  reform,  emancipa- 
tion, abolition-principles,  and  the  like, — I  consider  the  fate  cf 
said  kennel  and  of  said  keepers  to  be  a  thing  settled.  Red 
republic  in  Phrygian  nightcap,  organisation  of  labour  a  la 
Louis  Blanc  ;  street-barricades,  and  then  murderous  cannon- 
volleys  a  la  Cavaignac  and  Windischgratz,  follow  out  of  one 
another,  as  grapes,  must,  new  wine,  and  sour  all-splitting  vine- 
gar do: — vinegar  is  but  vin-aigre,  or  the  self-same  "wine" 
grown  sharp  !  If,  moreover,  I  find  the  Worship  of  Human 
Nobleness  abolished  in  any  country,  and  a  new  astonishing 
Phallus- Worship,  with  universal  Balzac-Sand  melodies  and 
litanies  in  treble  and  in  bass,  established  in  its  stead,  what 
can  I  compute  but  that  Nature,  in  horrible  throes,  will  repugn 
against  such  substitution, — that,  in  short,  the  astonishing  new 
Phallus- Worship,  with  its  finer  sensibilities  of  the  heart,  and 
"  great  satisfying  loves,"  with  its  sacred  kiss  of  peace  for 
scoundrel  and  hero  alike,  with  its  all-embracing  Brotherhood, 
and  universal  Sacrament  of  Divorce,  will  have  to  take  itself 
away  again ! ' 


The  Ancient  Germans,  it  appears,  had  no  scruple  about 
public  executions;  on  the  contrary,  they  thought  the  just 
gods  themselves  might  fitly  preside  over  these  ;  that  these 
were  a  solemn  and  highest  act  of  worship,  if  justly  done. 
When  a  German  man  had  done  a  crime  deserving  death,  they, 


80 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


in  solemn  general  assembly  of  the  tribe,  doomed  him,  and 
considered  that  Fate  and  all  Nature  had  from  the  beginning 
doomed  him,  to  die  with  ignominy.  Certain  crimes  there 
were  of  a  supreme  nature  ;  him  that  had  perpetrated  one  of 
these,  they  believed  to  have  declared  himself  a  prince  of 
scoundrels.  Him  once  convicted  they  laid  hold  of,  nothing 
doubting  ; — bore  him,  after  judgment,  to  the  deepest  con- 
venient Peatbog  ;  plunged  him  in  there,  drove  an  oaken  frame 
down  over  him,  solemnly  in  the  name  of  gods  and  men : 
"  There,  prince  of  scoundrels,  that  is  Avhat  we  have  had  to 
think  of  thee,  on  clear  acquaintance  ;  our  grim  good-night  to 
thee  is  that !  In  the  name  of  all  the  gods,  lie  there,  and  be 
our  partnership  with  thee  dissolved  henceforth.  It  will  be 
better  for  us,  we  imagine  !  " 

My  friends,  after  all  this  beautiful  whitewash  and  humanity 
and  prison-discipline  ;  and  such  blubbering  and  whimpering 
and  soft  Litany  to  divine  and  also  to  quite  other  sorts  of  Pity, 
as  we  have  had  for  a  century  now, — give  me  leave  to  admon- 
ish you  that  that  of  the  Ancient  Germans  too  was  a  thing  in- 
expressibly necessary  to  keep  in  mind.  If  that  is  not  kept 
in  mind,  the  universal  Litany  to  Pity  is  a  mere  universal 
nuisance,  and  torpid  blasphemy  against  the  gods.  I  do  not 
much  respect  it,  that  purblind  blubbering  and  litanying,  as  it 
is  seen  at  present ;  and  the  litanying  over  scoundrels  I  go  the 
length  of  disrespecting,  and  in  some  cases  even  of  detesting. 
Yes,  my  friends,  scoundrel  is  scoundrel :  that  remains  for 
ever  a  fact ;  and  there  exists  not  in  the  earth  whitewash  that 
can  make  the  scoundrel  a  friend  of  this  Universe  ;  he  remains 
an  enemy  if  you  spent  your  life  in  whitewashing  him.  He 
won't  whitewash  ;  this  one  won't.  The  one  method  clearly  is, 
That,  after  fair  trial,  you  dissolve  partnership  with  him  ;  send 
him,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  whither  he  is  striving  all  this 
while,  and  have  done  with  him.  And,  in  a  time  like  this,  I 
would  advise  you,  see  likewise  that  you  be  speedy  about  it 
For  there  is  immense  work,  and  of  a  far  hopef uler  sort,  to  be 
done  elsewhere. 

Alas,  alas,  to  see  onco  the  'prince  of  scoundrels,'  the  Su- 
preme Scoundrel,  him  whom  of  all  men  the  gods  liked  worstt 


MODEL  rRISONS. 


81 


solemnly  laid  hold  of,  and  hung  upon  the  gallows  in  sight  of 
the  people  ;  what  a  lesson  to  all  the  people  !  Sermons  might 
he  preached  ;  the  Son  of  Thunder  and  the  Mouth  of  Gold 
might  turn  their  periods  now  with  some  hope  ;  for  here,  in 
the  most  impressive  way,  is  a  divine  sermon  acted.  Didactic 
as  no  spoken  sermon  could  be.  Didactic,  devotional  too  ; — in 
awed  solemnity,  a  recognition  that  Eternal  Justice  rules  the 
world  ;  that  at  the  call  of  this  human  pity  shall  fall  silent,  and 
man  be  stern  as  his  Master  and  Mandatory  is  ! — Understand 
too  that  except  upon  a  basis  of  even  such  rigour,  sorrowful, 
silent,  inexorable  as  that  of  Destiny  and  Doom,  there  is  no 
true  pity  possible.  The  pity  that  proves  so  possible  and  plenti- 
ful without  that  basis,  is  mere  ignavia  and  cowardly  effem- 
inacy ;  maudlin  laxity  of  heart,  grounded  on  blinkard  dimness 
of  head — contemptible  as  a  drunkards  tears. 

To  see  our  Supreme  Scoundrel  hung  upon  the  gallows, 
alas,  that  is  far  from  us  just  now !  There  is  a  ivorst  man  in  Eng- 
land, too, — curious  to  think  of, — whom  it  would  be  inexpres- 
sibly advantageous  to  lay  hold  of,  and  hang,  the  first  of  all. 
But  we  do  not  know  him  with  the  least  certainty,  the  least  ap- 
proach even  to  a  guess; — such  buzzards  and  dullards  and  poor 
children  of  the  Dusk  are  we,  in  spite  of  our  Statistics,  Un- 
shackled Presses,  and  Torches  of  Knowledge  ; — not  eagles 
soaring  sunward,  not  brothers  of  the  lightnings  and  the  radi- 
ances we  ;  a  dim  horn-eyed,  owl-population,  intent  mainly  on 
the  catching  of  mice  !  Alas,  the  supreme  scoundrel,  alike  with 
the  supreme  hero,  is  very  far  from  being  known.  Nor  have 
we  the  smallest  apparatus  for  dealing  with  either  of  them,  if 
he  were  known.  Our  supreme  scoundrel  sits,  I  conjecture, 
well-cushioned,  in  high  places,  at  this  time  ;  rolls  softly 
through  the  world,  and  lives  a  prosperous  gentleman  ;  instead 
of  sinking  him  in  peat- bogs,  we  mount  the  brazen  image  of 
him  on  high  columns  :  such  is  the  world's  temporary  judgment 
about  its  supreme  scoundrels ;  a  mad  world,  my  masters. 
To  get  the  supreme  scoundrel  always  accurately  the  first 
hanged, — this,  which  presupposes  that  the  supreme  hero  were 
always  the  first  promoted,  this  were  precisely  the  millennium 
itself,  clear  evidence  that  the  millennium  had  come  :  alas,  we 
6 


82 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


must  forbear  hope  of  this.  Much  water  will  run-by  before 
we  see  this. 

And  yet  to  quit  all  aim  towards  it ;  to  go  blindly  flounder- 
ing along,  wrapt-up  in  clouds  of  horsehair,  bombazeen,  and 
sheepskin  officiality,  oblivious  that  there  exists  such  an  aim  : 
this  is  indeed  fatal.  In  every  human  law  there  must  either 
exist  such  an  aim,  or  else  the  law  is  not  a  human  but  a  dia- 
bolic one.  Diabolic,  I  say  :  no  quantity  of  bombazeen,  or 
lawyers'  wigs,  three-readings,  and  solemn  trumpeting  and 
bow-wowing  in  high  places  or  in  low,  can  hide  from  me  its 
frightful  infernal  tendency  ; — bound,  and  sinking  at  all  mo- 
ments gradually  to  Gehenna,  this  'law  ; '  and  dragging  down 
much  with  it !  'To  decree  injustice  by  a  law : '  inspired  Proph- 
ets have  long  since  seen,  what  every  clear  soul  may  still 
see,  that  of  all  Anarchies  and  Devil-worships  there  is  none 
like  this  ;  that  this  is  the  '  Throne  of  Iniquity  '  set  up  in  the 
name  of  the  Highest,  the  human  Apotheosis  of  Anarchy  it- 
self. "  Quiet  Anarchy,"  you  exultingly  say?  Yes  ;  quiet  An- 
archy, which  the  longer  it  sits  '  quiet '  will  have  the  frightfuler 
account  to  settle  at  last.  For  every  doit  of  the  account,  as 
I  often  say,  will  have  to  be  settled  one  day,  as  sure  as  God 
lives.  Principal,  and  compound  interest  rigorously  computed  ; 
and  the  interest  is  at  a  terrible  rate  per  cent,  in  these  cases ! 
Alas,  the  aspect  of  a  certain  beatified  Anarchies,  sitting  'quiet ; ' 
and  of  others  in  a  state  of  infernal  explosion  for  sixty  years 
back  :  this,  the  one  view  our  Europe  offers  at  present,  makes 
these  days  very  sad. — 

My  unfortunate  philanthropic  friends,  it  is  this  long-con- 
tinued oblivion  of  the  soul  of  law  that  has  reduced  the  Crimi- 
nal Question  to  such  a  pass  among  us.  Many  other  things 
have  come,  and  are  coming,  for  the  same  sad  reason,  to  a 
pass  !  Not  the  supreme  scoundrel  have  our  laws  aimed  at ; 
but,  in  an  uncertain  fitful  manner,  at  the  inferior  or  lowest 
scoundrel,  who  robs  shop-tills  and  puts  the  skin  of  mankind 
in  danger.  How  can  Parliament  get  through  the  Criminal 
Question?  Parliament,  oblivious  of  Heavenly  Law,  will  find 
itself  in  hopeless  reductio  ad  absurd  inn  in  regard  to  innumer- 
able other  questions,— in  regard  to  all  questions  whatsoever 


MODEL  PRISONS. 


83 


by  and  by.  There  will  be  no  existence  possible  for  Parlia- 
ment on  these  current  terms.  Parliament,  in  its  law-makings, 
must  really  try  to  attain  some  vision  again  of  what  Heaven's 
Laws  are.  A  thing  not  easy  to  do ;  a  thing  requiring  sad 
sincerity  of  heart,  reverence,  pious  earnestness,  valiant  man- 
ful wisdom  ; — qualities  not  overabundant  in  Parliament  just 
now,  nor  out  of  it,  I  fear. 

Adieu,  my  friends.  My  anger  against  you  is  gone  ;  my  sad 
reflections  on  you,  and  on  the  depths  to  which  you  and  I  and 
all  of  us  are  sunk  in  these  strange  times,  are  not  to  be  uttered 
at  present.  You  would  have  saved  the  Sarawak  Pirates, 
then  ?  The  Almighty  Maker  is  wroth  that  the  Sarawak  cut- 
throats, with  their  poisoned  spears,  are  away  ?  What  must  his 
wrath  be  that  the  Thirty-thousand  Needlewomen  are  still 
here,  and  the  question  of  '  prevenient  grace  '  not  yet  settled  ! 
O  my  friends,  in  sad  earnest,  sad  and  deadly  earnest,  there 
much  needs  that  God  would  mend  all  this,  and  that  we  should 
help  him  to  mend  it ! — And  don't  you  think,  for  one  thing, 
'Parmer  Hodge's  horses  '  in  the  Sugar  Islands  are  pretty  well 
*  emancipated '  now  ?  My  clear  opinion  farther  is,  we  had 
better  quit  the  Scoundrel-province  of  Keform  ;  better  close 
that  under  hatches,  in  some  rapid  summary  manner,  and  go 
elsewhither  with  our  Keform  efforts.  A  whole  world,  for 
want  of  Reform,  is  drowning  and  sinking  ;  threatening  to 
swamp  itself  into  a  Stygian  quagmire,  uninhabitable  by  any 
noble-minded  man.  Let  us  to  the  well-heads,  I  say ;  to  the 
chief  fountains  of  these  waters  of  bitterness  ;  and  there  strike 
home  and  dig  !  To  puddle  in  the  embouchures  and  drowned 
outskirts,  and  ulterior  and  ultimate  issues  and  cloacas  of  the 
affair  :  what  profit  can  there  be  in  that  ?  Nothing  to  be  saved 
there  ;  nothing  to  be  fished-up .  there,  except,  with  endless 
peril  and  spread  of  pestilence,  a  miscellany  of  broken  wails 
and  dead  dogs !    In  the  name  of  Heaven,  quit  that ! 


84 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


No.  Ill  DOWNING  STREET. 
[1st  April  1850.] 

From  all  corners  of  the  wide  British  Dominion  there  rises 
one  complaint  against  the  in  effectuality  of  what  are  nicknamed 
our  '  redtape  '  establishments,  our  Government  Offices,  Co- 
lonial Office,  Foreign  Office  and  the  others,  in  Downing  Street 
and  the  neighbourhood.  To  me  individually  these  branches 
of  human  business  are  little  known  ;  but  every  British  citizen 
and  reflective  passer-by  has  occasion  to  wonder  much,  and 
inquire  earnestly,  concerning  them.  To  all  men  it  is  evident 
that  the  social  interests  of  One-hundred  and  fifty  Millions  of 
us  depend  on  the  mysterious  industry  there  carried  on  ;  and 
likewise  that  the  dissatisfaction  with  it  is  great,  universal,  and 
continually  increasing  in  intensity, — in  fact,  mounting,  we 
might  say,  to  the  pitch  of  settled  despair. 

Every  colony,  every  agent  for  a  matter  colonial,  has  his 
tragic  tale  to  tell  you  of  his  sad  experiences  in  the  Colonial 
Office  ;  what  blind  obstructions,  fatal  indolences,  pedantries, 
stupidities,  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  he  had  to  do  battle 
with  ;  what  a  world-wide  jungle  of  redtape,  inhabited  by  dole- 
ful creatures,  deaf  or  nearly  so  to  human  reason  or  entreaty, 
he  had  entered  on  ;  and  how  he  paused  in  amazement,  almost 
in  despair  ;  passionately  appealed  now  to  this  doleful  creat- 
ure, now  to  that,  and  to  the  dead  redtape  jungle,  and  to  the 
living  Universe  itself,  and  to  the  Voices  and  to  the  Silences  ; — 
and,  on  the  whole,  found  that  it  was  an  adventure,  in  sorrow- 
ful fact,  equal  to  the  fabulous  ones  by  old  knights-errant 
against  dragons  and  wizards  in  enchanted  wildernesses  and 
waste  howling  solitudes ;  not  achievable  except  by  nearly 
superhuman  exercise  of  all  the  four  cardinal  virtues,  and  un- 
expected favour  of  the  special  blessing  of  Heaven.  His  ad- 
venture achieved  or  found  unachievable,  he  has  returned  with 
experiences  new  to  him  in  the  affairs  of  men.  "What  this 
Colonial  Office,  inhabiting  the  head  of  Downing  Street,  really 


DOWNING  STREET. 


85 


was,  and  had  to  do,  or  try  doing,  in  God's  practical  Earth,  he 
could  not  by  any  means  precisely  get  to  know  ;  believes  that 
it  does  not  itself  in  the  least  precisely  know.  Believes  that 
nobody  knows  ; — that  it  is  a  mystery,  a  kind  of  Heathen 
myth  ; — and  stranger  than  any  piece  of  the  old  mythological 
Pantheon  ;  for  it  practically  presides  over  the  destinies  of 
many  millions  of  living  men. 

Such  is  his  report  of  the  Colonial  Office  :  and  if  we  oftener 
hear  such  a  report  of  that  than  we  do  of  the  Home  Office,  For- 
eign Office  or  the  rest, — the  reason  probably  is,  that  Colonies 
excite  more  attention  at  present  than  any  of  our  other  inter- 
ests. The  Forty  Colonies,  it  appears,  are  all  pretty  like  re- 
belling just  now ;  and  are  to  be  pacified  with  constitutions  ; — 
luckier  constitutions,  let  us  hope,  than  some  late  ones  have 
been.  Loyal  Canada,  for  instance,  had  to  quench  a  rebellion 
the  other  year  ;  and  this  year,  in  virture  of  its  constitution,  it 
is  called  upon  to  pay  the  rebels  their  damages  ;  which  surely 
is  a  rather  surprising  result,  however  constitutional ! — Men 
have  rents  and  moneys  dependent  in  the  Colonies  ;  Emigra- 
tion schemes,  Black  Emancipations,  New-Zealand  and  other 
schemes  ;  and  feel  and  publish  more  emphatically  what  their 
Downing-Street  woes  in  these  respects  have  been. 

Were  the  state  of  poor  sallow  English  ploughers  and  weav- 
ers, what  we  may  call  the  Sallow  or  Yellow  Emancipation  in- 
terest, as  much  an  object  with  Exeter-Hall  Philanthropists  as 
that  of  the  Black  blockheads  now  all  emancipated,  and  going 
at  large  without  work,  or  need  of  working,  in  West-India  clover 
(and  fattening  very  much  in  it,  one  delights  to  hear), — then 
perhaps  the  Home  Office,  its  huge  virtual  task  better  under- 
stood, and  its  small  actual  performance  better  seen  into, 
might  be  found  still  more  deficient,  and  behind  the  wants  of 
the  age,  than  the  Colonial  itself  is. 

How  it  stands  with  the  Foreign  Office,  again,  one  still  less 
knows.  Seizures  of  Sapienza,  and  the  like  sudden  appearances 
of  Britain  in  the  character  of  Hercules-Harlequin,  waving, 
with  big  bully-voice,  her  huge  sword-of-sharpness  over  field- 
mice,  and  in  the  air  making  horrid  circles  (horrid  catherine- 
wheels  and  death-disks  of  metallic  terror  from  said  huge 


80 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


sword),  to  see  how  they  will  like  it, — do  from  time  to  time 
astonish  the  world,  in  a  not  pleasant  manner.  Hercules-Har- 
lequin, the  Attorney  Triumphant,  the  World's  Busybody  : 
none  of  these  are  parts  this  Nation  has  a  turn  for ;  she,  if  you 
consulted  her,  would  rather  not  play  these  parts,  but  another ! 
Seizures  of  Sapienza,  correspondences  with  Sotomayor,  re- 
monstrances to  Otho  King  of  Athens,  fleets  hanging  by  their 
anchor  in  behalf  of  the  Majesty  of  Portugal ;  and  in  short  the 
whole,  or  at  present  very  nearly  the  whole,  of  that  industry 
of  protocolling,  diplomatising,  remonstrating,  admonishing, 
and  '  having  the  honour  to  be,' — has  sunk  justly  in  public 
estimation  to  a  very  low  figure. 

For  in  fact,  it  is  reasonably  asked,  What  vital  interest  has 
England  in  any  cause  now  deciding  itself  in  foreign  parts  ? 
Once  there  was  a  Papistry  and  Protestantism,  important  as 
life  eternal  and  death  eternal ;  more  lately  there  was  an  in- 
terest of  Civil  Order  and  Horrors  of  the  French  Revolution, 
important  at  least  as  rent-roll  and  preservation  of  the  game  ; 
but  now  what  is  there  ?  No  cause  in  which  any  god  or  man 
of  this  British  Nation  can  be  thought  to  be  concerned.  Sham- 
kingship,  now  recognised  and  even  self  recognised  everywhere 
to  be  sham,  wrestles  and  struggles  with  mere  ballot  box  An- 
archy :  not  a  pleasant  spectacle  to  British  minds.  Both  par- 
ties in  the  wrestle  professing  earnest  wishes  of  peace  to  us, 
what  have  we  to  do  with  it  except  answer  earnestly,  "Peace, 
yes  certainly,"  and  mind  our  affairs  elsewhere.  The  British 
Nation  has  no  concern  with  that  indispensable  sorrowful  and 
shameful  wrestle  now  going  on  everywhere  in  foreign  parts. 
The  British  Nation  already,  by  self-experience  centuries  old, 
understands  all  that  ;  was  lucky  enough  to  transact  the  greater 
part  of  that,  in  noble  ancient  ages,  while  the  wrestle  had  not 
yet  become  a  shameful  one,  but  on  both  sides  of  it  there  was 
wisdom,  virtue,  heroic  nobleness  fruitful  to  all  time, — thrice- 
lucky  British  Nation  !  The  British  Nation,  I  say,  has  nothing 
to  learn  there  ;  has  now  quite  another  set  of  lessons  to  learn, 
far  ahead  of  what  is  going  on  there.  Sad  example  there,  of 
what  the  issue  is,  and  how  inevitable  and  how  imminent, 
might  admonish  the  British  Nation  to  be  speedy  with  its  new 


DOWNING  STREET. 


87 


lessons ;  to  bestir  itself,  as  men  in  peril  of  conflagration  do, 
with  the  neighbouring  houses  all  on  fire  !  To  obtain,  for  its 
own  very  pressing  behoof,  if  by  possibility  it  could,  some  real 
Captaincy  instead  of  an  imaginary  one  :  to  remove  resolutely, 
and  replace  by  a  better  sort,  its  own  peculiar  species  of  teach- 
ing and  guiding  histrios  of  various  name,  who  here  too  are 
numerous  exceedingly,  and  much  in  need  of  gentle  removal, 
while  the  play  is  still  good,  and  the  comedy  has  not  yet  be- 
come tragic ; — and  to  be  a  little  swift  about  it  withal ;  and 
so  to  escape  the  otherwise  inevitable  evil  day  !  This  Britain 
might  learn  :  but  she  does  not  need  a  protocolling  establish- 
ment, with  much  1  having  the  honour  to  be,'  to  teach  it  her. 

No  : — she  has  in  fact  certain  cottons,  hardwares  and  such- 
like to  sell  in  foreign  parts,  and  certain  wines,  Portugal 
oranges,  Baltic  tar  and  other  products  to  buy  ;  and  does  need, 
I  suppose,  some  kind  of  Consul,  or  accredited  agent,  accessi- 
ble to  British  voyagers,  here  and  there,  in  the  chief  cities  of 
the  Continent :  through  which  functionary,  or  through  the 
penny-post,  if  she  had  any  specific  message  to  foreign  courts, 
it  would  be  easy  and  proper  to  transmit  the  same.  Special 
message-carriers,  to  be  still  called  Ambassadors,  if  the  name 
gratified  them,  could  be  sent  when  occasion  great  enough  de- 
manded ;  not  sent  when  it  did  not.  But  for  all  purposes  of  a 
resident  ambassador,  I  hear  persons  extensively  and  well  ac- 
quainted among  our  foreign  embassies  at  this  date  declare, 
That  a  well-selected  Times  reporter  or  'own  correspondent' 
ordered  to  reside  in  foreign  capitals,  and  keep  his  eyes  open, 
and  (though  sparingly)  his  pen  going,  would  in  reality  be 
much  more  effective  ; — and  surely  we  see  well,  he  would  come 
a  good  deal  cheaper  !  Considerably  cheaper  in  expense  of 
money  ;  and  in  expense  of  falsity  and  grimacing  hypocrisy  (of 
which  no  human  arithmetic  can  count  the  ultimate  cost)  in- 
calculably cheaper  !  If  this  is  the  fact,  why  not  treat  it  as 
such  ?  If  this  is  so  in  any  measure,  we  had  better  in  that 
measure  admit  it  to  be  so  !  The  time,  I  believe,  has  come  for 
asking  with  considerable  severity,  How  far  is  it  so  ?  Nay 
there  are  men  now  current  in  political  society,  men  of  weight 
though  also  of  wit,  who  have  been  heard  to  say,  "  That  there 


8S 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


was  but  one  reform  for  the  Foreign  Office, — to  set  a  live  coal 
under  it,"  and  with,  of  course,  a  fire-brigade  which  could  pre- 
vent the  undue  spread  of  the  devouring  element  into  neigh- 
bouring houses,  let  that  reform  it !  In  such  odour  is  the 
Foreign  Office  too,  if  it  were  not  that  the  Public,  oppressed 
and  nearly  stifled  with  a  mere  infinitude  of  bad  odours,  neg- 
lects this  one, — in  fact,  being  able  nearly  always  to  avoid  the 
street  where  it  is,  escapes  this  one,  and  (except  a  passing  curse, 
once  in  the  quarter  or  so)  as  good  as  forgets  the  existence 
of  it. 

Such,  from  sad  personal  experience  and  credited  prevailing 
rumour,  is  the  exoteric  public  conviction  about  these  sublime 
establishments  in  Downing  Street  and  the  neighbourhood,^ 
the  esoteric  mysteries  of  which  are  indeed  still  held  sacred  by 
the  initiated,  but  believed  by  the  world  to  be  mere  Dalai-Lama 
pills,  manufactured  let  not  refined  lips  hint  how,  and  quite 
imsalvatory  to  mankind.  Every  one  may  remark  what  a 
hope  animates  the  eyes  of  any  circle,  when  it  is  reported  or 
even  confidently  asserted,  that  Sir  Eobert  Peel  has  in  his 
mind  privately  resolved  to  go,  one  day,  into  that  stable  of 
King  Augias,  which  appals  human  hearts,  so  rich  is  it,  high- 
piled  with  the  droppings  of  two  hundred  years  ;  and  Hercu- 
les-like to  load  a  thousand  night-wagons  from  it,  and  turn  run- 
ning water  into  it,  and  swash  and  shovel  at  it,  and  never  leave 
it  till  the  antique  pavement,  and  real  basis  of  the  matter,  show 
itself  clean  again  !  In  any  intelligent  circle  such  a  rumour, 
like  the  first  break  of  day  to  men  in  darkness,  enlightens  all 
eyes  ;  and  each  says  devoutly,  "  Faxitis,  O  ye  righteous  Pow- 
ers that  have  pity  on  us  !  All  England  grateful,  with  kind- 
ling looks,  will  rise  in  the  rear  of  him,  and  from  its  deepest 
heart  bid  him  good  speed  !  " 

For  it  is  universally  felt  that  some  esoteric  man,  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  mysteries  and  properties  good  and  evil  of 
the  administrative  stable,  is  the  fittest  to  reform  it,  nay  can 
alone  reform  it  otherwise  than  by  sheer  violence  and  destruc- 
tion, which  is  a  way  we  would  avoid  ;  that  in  fact  Sir  Robert 
Peel  is,  at  present,  the  one  likely  or  possible  man  to  reform  it 


DOWNING  STREET. 


89 


And  secondly  it  is  felt  that  '  reform  '  in  that  Downing-Street 
department  of  affairs  is  precisely  the  reform  which  were  worth 
all  others  ;  that  those  administrative  establishments  in  Down- 
ing Street  are  really  the  Government  of  this  huge  ungoverned 
Empire  ;  that  to  clean-out  the  dead  pedantries,  unveracities, 
indolent  somnolent  impotences,  and  accumulated  dung-moun- 
tains there,  is  the  beginning  of  all  practical  good  whatsoever. 
Yes,  get  down  once  again  to  the  actual  pavement  of  that ;  as- 
certain what  the  thing  is,  and  was  before  dung  accumulated 
in  it ;  and  what  it  should  and  may,  and  must,  for  the  life's 
sake  of  this  Empire,  henceforth  become  :  here  clearly  lies  the 
heart  of  the  whole  matter.  Political  leform,  if  this  be  not  re- 
formed, is  naught  and  a  mere  mockery. 

What  England  wants,  and  will  require  to  have,  or  sink  in 
nameless  anarchies,  is  not  a  Reformed  Parliament,  meaning 
thereby  a  Parliament  elected  according  to  the  six  or  the  four 
or  any  other  number  of  '  points '  and  cunningly-devised  im- 
provements in  hustings  mechanism,  but  a  Reformed  Executive 
or  Sovereign  Body  of  Rulers  and  Administrators, — some  im- 
proved method,  innumerable  improvements  in  our  poor  blind 
methods,  of  getting  hold  of  these.  Not  a  better  Talking-Ap- 
paratus, the  best  conceivable  Talking-Apparatus  would  do  very 
little  for  us  at  present ; — but  an  infinitely  better  Acting- Ap- 
paratus, the  benefits  of  which  would  be  invaluable  now  and 
henceforth.  The  practical  question  puts  itself  with  ever-in- 
creasing stringency  to  all  English  minds  :  Can  we,  by  no  in- 
dustry, energy,  utmost  expenditure  of  human  ingenuity,  and 
passionate  invocation  of  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth,  get  to 
attain  some  twelve  or  ten  or  six  men  to  manage  the  affairs  of 
this  nation  in  Downing  Street  and  the  chief  posts  elsewhere, 
who  are  abler  for  the  work  than  those  we  have  been  used  to, 
this  long  while  ?  For  it  is  really  a  heroic  work,  and  cannot 
be  done  by  histrios,  and  dextrous  talkers  having  the  honour 
to  be  :  it  is  a  heavy  and  appalling  work  ;  and,  at  the  starting 
of  it  especially,  will  require  Herculean  men  ;  such  mountains 
of  pedant  exuviae  and  obscene  owl-droppings  have  accumulated 
in  those  regions,  long  the  habitation  of  doleful  creatures ;  the 
old  pavements,  the  natural  facts  and  real  essential  functions  of 


00 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


those  establishments,  have  not  been  seen  by  eyes  for  these 
two-hundred  years  last  past !  Herculean  men  acquainted  with 
the  virtues  of  running  water,  and  with  the  divine  necessity  of 
getting  down  to  the  clear  pavements  and  old  veracities  ;  who 
tremble  before  no  amount  of  pedant  exuviae,  no  loudest  shriek- 
ing of  doleful  creatures  ;  who  tremble  only  to  live,  themselves, 
like  inane  phantasms,  and  to  leave  their  life  as  a  paltry  con- 
tribution to  the  guano  mountains,  and  not  as  a  divine  eternal 
protest  against  them  ! 

These  are  the  kind  of  men  we  want ;  these,  the  nearest 
possible  approximation  to  these,  are  the  men  we  must  find  and 
have,  or  go  bankrupt  altogether  ;  for  the  concern  as  it  is  will 
evidently  not  hold  long  together.  How  true  is  this  of  Crabbe : 
*  Men  sit  in  Parliament  eighty-three  hours  per  week,  debating 
about  many  things.  Men  sit  in  Downing  Street,  doing  pro- 
tocols, Syrian  treaties,  Greek  questions,  Portuguese,  Spanish, 
French,  Egyptian  and  ^Ethiopian  questions ;  dextrously  writ- 
ing despatches,  and  having  the  honour  to  be.  Not  a  ques- 
tion of  them  is  at  all  pressing  in  comparison  with  the  English 
question.  Pacifico  the  miraculous  Gibraltar  Jew  has  been 
hustled  by  some  populace  in  Greece  :  upon  him  let  the  Brit- 
ish Lion  drop,  very  rapidly  indeed,  a  constitutional  tear. 
Radetzky  is  said  to  be  advancing  upon  Milan  ; — I  am  sorry 
to  hear  it,  and  perhaps  it  does  deserve  a  despatch,  or  friendly 
letter,  once  and  away  :  but  the  Irish  Giant,  named  of  Despair, 
is  advancing  upon  London  itself,  laying  waste  all  English 
cities,  towns  and  villages  ;  that  is  the  interesting  Govern* 
ment-despatch  of  the  day !  I  notice  him  in  Piccadilly,  blue- 
visaged,  thatched  in  rags,  a  blue  child  on  each  arm  ;  hunger- 
driven,  wide-mouthed,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour :  he, 
missioned  by  the  just  Heavens,  too  truly  and  too  sadly  their 
"  divine  missionary  "  come  at  last  in  this  authoritative  manner, 
will  throw  us  all  into  Doubting  Castle,  I  perceive  !  That  is 
the  phenomenon  worth  protocolling  about  and  writing  de- 
spatches upon,  and  thinking  of  with  all  one's  faculty  day  and 
night,  if  one  wishes  to  have  the  honour  to  be — anything  but 
a  Phantasm  Governor  of  England  just  now  !  I  entreat  your 
Lordship's  ail-but  undivided  attention  to  that  Domestic  Irish 


DOWNING  STREET. 


91 


Giant,  named  of  Despair,  for  a  great  many  years  to  come. 
Prophecy  of  him  there  has  long  been ;  but  now  by  the  rot 
of  the  potato  (blessed  be  the  just  gods,  who  send  us  either 
swift  death  or  some  beginning  of  cure  at  last !),  he  is  here  in 
person,  and  there  is  no  denying  him,  or  disregarding  him  any 
more  ;  and  woe  to  the  public  watchman  that  ignores  him,  and 
sees  Pacifico  the  Gibraltar  Jew  instead  ! ' 


What  these  strange  entities  in  Downing  Street  intrinsi- 
cally are  ;  who  made  them,  why  they  were  made  ;  how  they  do 
their  function  ;  and  what  their  function,  so  huge  in  appear- 
ance, may  in  net-result  amount  to, — is  probably  known  to  no 
mortal.  The  unofficial  mind  passes  by  in  dark  wonder  ;  not 
pretending  to  know.  The  official  mind  must  not  blab  ; — the 
official  mind,  restricted  to  its  own  square  foot  of  territory  in 
the  vast  labyrinth,  is  probably  itself  dark,  and  unable  to  blab. 
We  see  the  outcome  ;  the  mechanism  we  do  not  see.  How  the 
tailors  clip  and  sew,  in  that  sublime  sweating  establishment 
of  theirs  we  know  not :  that  the  coat  they  bring  us  out  is  the 
sorrowfulest  fantastic  mockery  of  a  coat,  a  mere  intricate 
artistic  net-work  of  traditions  and  formalities,  and  embroiled 
reticulation  made  of  web-listings  and  superannuated  thrums 
and  tatters,  endurable  to  no  grown  Nation  as  a  coat,  is  mourn- 
fully clear  ! — 

Two  kinds  of  fundamental  error  are  supposable  in  such  a 
set  of  Offices  ;  these  two,  acting  and  reacting,  are  the  vice  of 
all  inefficient  Offices  whatever.  First,  that  the  work,  such  as 
it  may  be,  is  ill-done  in  these  establishments.  That  it  is  de- 
layed, neglected,  slurred  over,  committed  to  hands  that  can- 
not do  it  well ;  that,  in  a  word,  the  questions  sent  thither  are 
not  wisely  handled,  but  unwisely ;  not  decided  truly  and  rap- 
idly, but  with  delays  and  wrong  at  last :  which  is  the  principal 
character,  and  the  infallible  result,  of  an  insufficient  Intellect 
being  set  to  decide  them.  Or  second,  what  is  still  fataler,  the 
work  done  there  may  itself  be  quite  the  wrong  kind  of  work. 
Not  the  kind  of  supervision  and  direction  which  Colonies,  and 


02 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


other  such  interests,  Home  or  Foreign,  do  by  the  nature  of 
them  require  from  the  Central  Government ;  not  that,  but  a 
quite  other  kind  !  The  Sotomayor  correspondence,  for  ex- 
ample, is  considered  by  many  persons  not  to  be  mismanaged 
merely,  but  to  be  a  thing  which  should  never  have  been  man- 
aged at  all ;  a  quite  superfluous  concern,  which  and  the  like 
of  which  the  British  Government  has  almost  no  call  to  get 
into,  at  this  new  epoch  of  time.  And  not  Sotomayor  only,  nor 
Sapienza  only,  in  regard  to  that  Foreign  Office,  but  innumer- 
able other  things,  if  our  witty  friend  of  the  '  live  coal '  have 
reason  in  him !  Of  the  Colonial  Office,  too,  it  is  urged  that 
the  questions  they  decide  and  operate  upon  are,  in  very  great 
part,  questions  which  they  never  should  have  meddled  with, 
but  almost  all  of  which  should  have  been  decided  in  the  Col- 
onies themselves, — Mother  Country  or  Colonial  Office  reserv- 
ing its  energy  for  a  quite  other  class  of  objects,  which  are 
terribty  neglected  just  now. 

These  are  the  two  vices  that  beset  Government  Offices ; 
both  of  them  originating  in  insufficient  Intellect, — that  sad 
insufficiency  from  which,  directly  or  indirectly,  all  evil  what- 
soever springs !  And  these  two  vices  act  and  react,  so  that 
where  the  one  is,  the  other  is  sure  to  be  ;  and  each  encourag- 
ing the  growth  of  the  other,  both  (if  some  cleaning  of  the 
Augias  stable  have  not  intervened  for  a  long  while)  will  be 
found  in  frightful  development.  You  cannot  have  your  work 
well  done,  if  the  work  be  not  of  the  right  kind,  if  it  be  not 
work  prescribed  by  the  law  of  Nature  as  well  as  by  the  rules 
of  the  office.  Laziness,  which  lies  in  wait  round  all  human 
labour-offices,  will  in  that  case  infallibly  leak  in,  and  vitiate 
the  doing  of  the  work.  The  work  is  but  idle  ;  if  the  doing  of 
it  will  but  pass,  what  need  of  more  ?  The  essential  problem, 
as  the  rules  of  office  prescribe  it  for  you,  if  Nature  and  Fact 
say  nothing,  is  that  your  work  be  got  to  pass ;  if  the  work 
itself  is  worth  nothing,  or  little  or  an  uncertain  quantity,  what 
more  can  gods  or  men  require  of  it,  or,  above  all,  can  I  who 
am  the  doer  of  it  require,  but  that  it  be  got  to  pass  ? 

And  now  enters  another  fatal  effect,  the  mother  of  ever-new 
mischiefs,  which  renders  well-doing  or  improvement  impossi- 


DOWNING  STREET. 


93 


ble,  and  drives  bad  everywhere  continually  into  worse.  The 
work  being  what  we  see,  a  stupid  subaltern  will  do  as  well  as 
a  gifted  one  ;  the  essential  point  is,  that  he  be  a  quiet  one, 
and  do  not  bother  me  who  have  the  driving  of  him.  Nay, 
for  this  latter  object,  is  not  a  certain  height  of  intelligence 
even  dangerous?  I  want  no  mettled  Arab  horse,  with  his 
flashing  glances,  arched  neck  and  elastic  step,  to  draw  my 
wretched  sand-cart  through  the  streets ;  a  broken,  grassfed 
galloway,  Irish  garron,  or  painful  ass  with  nothing  in  the 
belly  of  him  but  patience  and  furze,  will  do  it  safelier  for  me, 
if  more  slowly.  Nay  I  myself,  am  I  the  worse  for  being  of  a 
feeble  order  of  intelligence  ;  what  the  irreverent  speculative 
world  calls  barren,  redtapish,  limited,  and  even  intrinsically 
dark  and  small,  and  if  it  must  be  said,  stupid?— To  such  a 
climax  does  it  come  in  all  Government  and  other  Offices, 
where  Human  Stupidity  has  once  introduced  itself  (as  it  will 
everywhere  do),  and  no  Scavenger  God  intervenes.  The 
work,  at  first  of  some  worth,  is  ill  done,  and  becomes  of  less 
worth  and  of  ever  less,  and  finally  of  none  :  the  worthless 
work  can  now  afford  to  be  ill  done  ;  and  Human  Stupidity,  at 
a  double  geometrical  ratio,  with  frightful  expansion  grows  and 
accumulates, — towards  the  unendurable. 

The  reforming  Hercules,  Sir  Robert  Peel  or  whoever  he  is 
to  be,  that  enters  Downing  Street,  will  ask  himself  this  ques- 
tion first  of  all,  What  work  is  now  necessary,  not  in  form  and 
by  traditionary  use  and  wont  but  in  very  fact,  for  the  vital  in- 
terests of  the  British  Nation,  to  be  done  here?  The  second 
question,  How  to  get  it  well  done,  and  to  keep  the  best  hands 
doing  it  well,  will  be  greatly  simplified  by  a  good  answer  to 
that.  O  for  an  eye  that  could  see  in  those  hideous  mazes, 
and  a  heart  that  could  dare  and  do !  Strenuous  faithful 
scrutiny,  not  of  what  is  thought  to  be  what  in  the  redtape 
regions,  but  of  what  really  is  what  in  the  realms  of  Fact  and 
Nature  herself  ;  deep-seeing,  wise  and  courageous  eyes,  that 
could  look  through  innumerable  cobweb  veils,  and  detect 
what  fact  or  no-fa<ct  lies  at  heart  of  them, — how  invaluable 
these  !  For,  alas,  it  is  long  since  such  eyes  were  much  in  the 
habit  of  looking  steadfastly  at  any  department  of  our  affairs ; 


94 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


and  poor  commonplace  creatures,  helping  themselves  along, 
in  the  way  of  makeshift,  from  year  to  year,  in  such  an  element, 
do  wonderful  works  indeed.  Such  creatures,  like  moles,  are 
safe  only  underground,  and  their  engineerings  there  become 
very  dsedalean.  In  fact,  such  unfortunate  persons  have  no  re- 
source but  to  become  what  we  call  Pedants ;  to  ensconce 
themselves  in  a  safe  world  of  habitudes,  of  apjriicable  or  in- 
applicable traditions ;  not  covetiog,  rather  avoiding  the  gen- 
eral daylight  of  common-sense,  as  very  extraneous  to  them 
and  their  procedure  ;  by  long  persistence  in  which  course  they 
become  Completed  Pedants,  hide-bound,  impenetrable,  able  to 
defy  the  hostile  extraneous  element :  an  alarming  kind  of  men. 
Such  men,  left  to  themselves  for  a  century  or  two,  in  any  Colo- 
nial, Foreign,  or  other  Office,  will  make  a  terrible  affair  of  it ! 

For  the  one  enemy  we  have  in  this  Universe  is  Stupidity, 
Darkness  of  Mind  ;  of  which  darkness,  again,  there  are  many 
sources,  every  sin  a  source,  and  probably  self-conceit  the  chief 
source.  Darkness  of  mind,  in  every  kind  and  variety,  does  to 
a  really  tragic  extent  abound  :  but  of  all  the  kinds  of  darkness, 
surely  the  Pedant  darkness,  which  asserts  and  believes  itself 
to  be  light,  is  the  most  formidable  to  mankind  !  For  empires 
or  for  individuals  there  is  but  one  class  of  men  to  be  trembled 
at ;  and  that  is  the  Stupid  Class,  the  class  that  cannot  see, 
who  alas  are  they  mainly  that  will  not  see.  A  class  of  mortals 
under  which  as  administrators,  kings,  priests,  diplomatists,  &c, 
the  interests  of  mankind  in  every  European  country  have  sunk 
overloaded,  as  under  universal  nightmare,  near  to  extinction  ; 
and  indeed  are  at  this  moment  convulsively  writhing,  decided 
either  to  throw  off  the  unblessed  superincumbent  nightmare, 
or  roll  themselves  and  it  to  the  Abyss.  Vain  to  reform  Parlia- 
ment, to  invent  ballot-boxes,  to  reform  this  or  that ;  the  real 
Administration,  practical  Management  of  the  Commonwealth, 
goes  all  awry  ;  choked-up  with  long-accumulated  pedantries, 
so  that  your  appointed  workers  have  been  reduced  to  work  as 
moles;  and  it  is  one  vast  boring  and  counterbormg,  on  the 
part  of  eyeless  persons  irreverently  called  stupid  ;  and  a  d.-rda- 
lean  bewilderment,  writing  '  impossible  '  on  all  efforts  or  pro- 
posals, supervenes. 

b 


DOWNING  STREET. 


95 


The  State  itself,  not  in  Downing  Street  alone  but  in  every 
department  of  it,  has  altered  much  from  what  it  was  in  past 
times  ;  and  it  will  again  have  to  alter  very  much,  to  alter  I 
think  from  top  to  bottom,  if  it  means  to  continue  existing  in 
the  times  that  are  now  coming  and  come  ! 

The  State,  left  to  shape  itself  by  dim  pedantries  and  tradi- 
tions, without  distinctness  of  conviction,  or  purpose  beyond 
that  of  helping  itself  over  the  difficulty  of  the  hour,  has  be- 
come, instead  of  a  luminous  vitality  permeating  with  its  light 
all  provinces  of  our  affairs,  a  most  monstrous  agglomerate  of 
inanities,  as  little  adapted  for  the  actual  wants  of  a  modem 
community  as  the  worst  citizen  need  wish.  The  thing  it  is 
doing  is  by  no  means  the  thing  we  want  to  have  done.  What 
we  want !  Let  the  dullest  British  man  endeavour  to  raise  in 
his  mind  this  question,  and  ask  himself  in  sincerity  what  the 
British  Nation  wants  at  this  time.  Is  it  to  have,  with  endless 
jargoning,  debating,  motioning  and  counter-motioning,  a  set- 
tlement effected  between  the  Honourable  Mr.  This  and  the 
Honourable  Mr.  That,  as  to  their  respective  pretensions  to 
ride  the  high  horse  ?  Really  it  is  unimportant  which  of  them 
ride  it.  Going  upon  past  experience  long  continued  now,  I 
should  say  with  brevity,  "  Either  of  them — Neither  of  them." 
If  our  Government  is  to  be  a  No-Government,  what  is  the 
matter  who  administers  it?  Fling  an  orange-skin  into  St. 
James's  Street  ;  let  the  man  it  hits  be  your  man.  He,  if  you 
breed  him  a  little  to  it,  and  tie  the  due  official  bladders  to  his 
ankles,  will  do  as  well  as  another  this  sublime  problem  of 
balancing  himself  upon  the  vortexes,  with  the  long  loaded- 
pole  in  his  hands  ;  and  will,  with  straddling  painful  gestures, 
lloat  hither  and  thither,  walking  the  waters  in  that  singular 
manner  for  a  little  while,  as  well  as  his  foregoers  did,  till  he 
also  capsize,  and  be  left  floating  feet  uppermost ;  after  which 
you  choose  another. 

What  an  immense  pother,  by  pariiamenting  and  palavering 
in  all  corners  of  your  empire,  to  decide  such  a  question  as 
that !  I  say,  if  thai  is  the  function,  almost  any  human  creat- 
ure can  learn  to  discharge  it :  fling  out  your  orange-skin 
again  ;  and  save  an  incalculable  labour,  and  an  emission  of 


96  LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 

nonsense  and  falsity,  and  electioneering  beer  and  bribery  and 
balderdash,  which  is  terrible  to  think  of,  in  deciding.  Your 
National  Parliament,  in  so  far  as  it  has  only  that  question  to 
decide,  may  be  considered  as  an  enormous  National  Palaver 
existing  mainly  for  imaginary  purposes  ;  and  certain,  in  these 
days  of  abbreviated  labour,  to  get  itself  sent  home  again  to 
its  partridge-shootings,  fox-huntings, — and  above  all,  to  its 
rat-catchings,  if  it  could  but  understand  the  time  of  day,  and 
know  (as  our  indignant  Crabbe  remarks)  that  '  the  real  Nim- 
rod  of  this  era,  who  alone  does  any  good  to  the  era,  is  the 
rat-catcher  ! ' 

The  notion  that  any  Government  is  or  can  be  a  No-Govern- 
ment, without  the  deadliest  peril  to  all  noble  interests  of  the 
Commonwealth,  and  by  degrees  slower  or  swifter  to  all  ig- 
noble ones  also,  and  to  the  very  gullyclrains,  and  thief  lodg- 
ing-houses, and  Mosaic  sweating  establishments,  and  at  last 
without  destruction  to  such  No-Government  itself, — was  never 
my  notion  ;  and  I  hope  it  will  soon  cease  altogether  to  be  the 
world's  or  to  be  anybody's.  But  if  it  be  the  correct  notion,  as 
the  world  seems  at  present  to  flatter  itself,  I  point  out  im- 
provements and  abbreviations.  Dismiss  your  National  Pa- 
laver ;  make  the  Times  Newspaper  your  National  Palaver, 
which  needs  no  beer-barrels  or  hustings,  and  is  cheaper  in 
expense  of  money  and  of  falsity  a  thousand  and  a  million 
fold  ;  have  an  economical  redtape  drilling  establishment  (it 
were  easier  to  devise  such  a  thing  than  a  right  Modern  Uni- 
versity) ; — and  fling  out  your  orange-skin  among  the  grad- 
uates, when  you  want  a  new  Premier. 

A  mighty  question  indeed  !  Who  shall  be  Premier,  and 
take  in  hand  the  'rudder of  government,' otherwise  called  the 
*  spigot  of  taxation  ; '  shall  it  be  the  Honourable  Felix  Parvu- 
lus,  or  the  Eight  Honourable  Felicissimus  Zero  ?  By  our  elec- 
tioneerings and  Hansard  Debatings,  and  ever-enduring  tem- 
pest of  jargon  that  goes  on  everywhere,  we  manage  to  settle 
that ;  to  have  it  declared,  with  no  bloodshed  except  insignifi- 
cant blood  from  the  nose  in  hustings- time,  but  with  immense 
becrshed  and  inkshed  and  explosion  of  nonsense,  which 
darkens  all  the  air,  that  the  Bight  Honourable  Zero  is  to  be 


DOWNING  STREET. 


97 


the  man.  That  we  firmly  settle  ;  Zero,  all  shivering  with  rap- 
ture and  with  terror,  mounts  into  the  high  saddle  ;  cramps 
himself  on,  with  knees,  heels,  hands  and  feet ;  and  the  horse 
gallops — whither  it  lists.  That  the  Eight  Honourable  Zero 
should  attempt  controlling  the  horse — Alas,  alas,  he,  sticking 
on  with  beak  and  claws,  is  too  happy  if  the  horse  will  only 
gallop  any  whither,  and  not  throw  him.  Measure,  polity,  plan 
or  scheme  of  public  good  or  evil,  is  not  in  the  head  of  Felicis- 
simus  ;  except,  if  he  could  but  devise  it,  some  measure  that 
would  please  his  horse  for  the  moment,  and  encourage  him 
to  go  with  softer  paces,  godward  or  devilward  as  it  might  be, 
and  save  Felicissimus's  leather,  which  is  fast  wearing.  This 
is  what  we  call  a  Government  in  England,  for  nearly  two  cen- 
turies now. 

I  wish  Felicissimus  were  saddle-sick  forever  and  a  day ! 
He  is  a  dreadful  object,  however  much  we  are  used  to  him. 
If  the  horse  had  not  been  bred  and  broken  in,  for  a  thousand 
years,  by  real  riders  and  horse-subduers,  perhaps  the  best  and 
bravest  the  world  ever  saw,  what  would  have  become  of  Feli- 
cissimus and  him  long  since  ?  This  horse,  by  second-nature, 
religiously  respects  all  fences  ;  gallops,  if  never  so  madly,  on 
the  highways  alone  ; — seems  to  me,  of  late,  like  a  desperate 
Sleswick  thunder-horse  who  had  lost  his  way,  galloping  in  the 
labyrinthic  lanes  of  a  woody  flat  country  ;  passionate  to  reach 
his  goal  ;  unable  to  reach  it,  because  in  the  flat  leafy  lanes 
there  is  no  outlook  whatever,  and  in  the  bridle  there  is  no 
guidance  whatever.  So  he  gallops  stormfully  along,  thinking 
it  is  forward  and  forward  ;  and  alas,  it  is  only  round  and 
round,  out  of  one  old  lane  into  the  other  ; — nay  (according  to 
some)  '  he  mistakes  his  own  footprints,  which  of  course  grow 
ever  more  numerous,  for  the  sign  of  a  more  and  more  fre- 
quented road ; '  and  his  despair  is  hourly  increasing.  My 
impression  is,  he  is  certain  soon,  such  is  the  growth  of  his  ne- 
cessity and  his  despair,  to — plunge  across  the  fence,  into  an 
opener  survey  of  the  country  ;  and  to  sweep  Felicissimus  off 
his  back,  and  comb  him  away  very  tragically  in  the  process  ! 
Poor  Sleswicker,  I  wish  you  were  better  ridden.  I  perceive 
it  lies  in  the  Fates  you  must  now  either  be  better  ridden,  or 
7 


98 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


else  nqt  long  at  all.  This  plunging  in  the  heavy  labyrinth  of 
over-shaded  lanes,  with  one's  stomach  getting  empty,  one's 
Ireland  falling  into  cannibalism,  and  no  vestige  of  a  goal 
either  visible  or  possible,  cannot  last. 

Colonial  Offices,  Foreign,  Home  and  other  Offices,  got  to- 
gether under  these  strange  circumstances,  cannot  well  be  ex- 
pected to  be  the  best  that  human  ingenuity  could  devise  ;  the 
wonder  rather  is  to  see  them  so  good  as  they  are.  Who  made 
them,  ask  me  not.  Made  they  clearly  were  ;  for  we  see  them 
here  in  a  concrete  condition,  writing  despatches,  and  drawing 
salary  with  a  view  to  buy  pudding.  But  how  those  Offices  in 
Downing  Street  were  made  ;  who  made  them,  or  for  what  kind 
of  objects  they  were  made,  would  be  hard  to  say  at  present. 
Dim  visions  and  phantasmagories  gathered  from  the  Books  ol 
Horace  Walpole,  Memoirs  of  Bubb  Doddington,  Memoirs  ol 
my  Lady  Sunclon,  Lord  Fanny  Hervey,  and  innumerable  others, 
rise  on  us,  beckoning  fantastically  towards,  not  an  answer,  but 
some  conceivable  intimations  of  an  answer,  and  proclaiming 
very  legibly  the  old  text,  1  Quam  par  vol  sapiential  in  respect  ol 
this  hard-working  much-subduing  British  Nation ; — giving  rise 
to  endless  reflections  in  a  thinking  Englishman  of  this  day. 
Alas,  it  is  ever  so  :  each  generation  has  its  task,  and  does  it 
better  or  worso  ;  greatly  neglecting  what  is  not  immediately 
its  task.  Our  poor  grandfathers,  so  busy  conquering  Indias, 
founding  Colonies,  inventing  spinning-jennies,  kindling  Lan- 
cashires  and  Bromwichams,  took  no  thought  about  the  govern- 
ment of  all  that  ;  left  it  all  to  be  governed  by  Lord  Fanny  and 
the  Hanover  Succession,  or  how  the  gods  pleased.  And  now 
we  the  poor  grandchildren  find  that  it  will  not  stick  together 
on  these  terms  any  longer ;  that  our  sad,  dangerous  and  sore 
task  is  to  discover  some  government  for  this  big  world  which 
has  been  conquered  to  us  ;  that  the  redtape  Offices  in  Down- 
ing Street  are  near  the  end  of  their  rope  ;  that  if  we  can  get 
nothing  better,  in  the  way  of  government,  it  is  all  over  with 
our  world  and  us.  How  the  Downing-Street  Offices  origi- 
nated, and  what  the  meaning  of  them  was  oris,  let  Dryasdust, 
when  in  some  lucid  moment  the  whim  takes  him,  instruct  us. 
Enough  for  us  to  know  and  see  clearly,  with  urgent  practical 


DOWNTNO  STREET. 


99 


inference  derived  from  such  insight,  That  they  were  not  made 
for  as  or  for  our  objects  at  all ;  that  the  devouring  Irish  Giant 
is  he- re,  and  that  he  cannot  be  fed  with  redtape,  and  will  eat 
us  if  we  cannot  feed  him. 

O:".'.  the  whole,  let  us  say  Felicissimus  made  them  ; — or 
rath'.'r  it  was  the  predecessors  of  Felicissimus,  who  were  not 
so  dreadfully  hunted,  sticking  to  the  wild  and  ever  more  des- 
perate Sles wicker  in  the  leafy  labyrinth  of  lanes,  as  he  now  is. 
He,  I  think,  will  never  make  anything  ;  but  be  combed  off  by 
the  elm-boughs,  and  left  sprawling  in  the  ditch.  But  in  past 
time,  this  and  the  other  heavy-laden  redtape  soul  had  withal 
a  glow  of  patriotism  in  him  ;  now  and  then,  in  his  whirling 
element,  a  gleam  of  human  ingenuity,  some  eye  towards  busi- 
ness that  must  be  done.  At  all  events,  for  him  and  every 
one,  Parliament  needed  to  be  persuaded  that  business  was 
done.  By  the  contributions  of  many  such  heavy-laden  souls, 
driven  on  by  necessity  outward  and  inward,  these  singular 
Establishments  are  here.  Contributions — who  knows  how  far 
back  they  go,  far  beyond  the  reign  of  George  the  Second,  or 
perhaps  the  reign  of  William  Conqueror.  Noble  and  genuine 
some  of  them  were,  many  of  them  were,  I  need  not  doubt : 
for  there  is  no  human  edifice  that  stands  long  but  has  got  it- 
self planted,  here  and  there,  upon  the  basis  of  fact ;  and  being- 
built,  ii\  many  respects,  according  to  the  laws  of  statics :  no 
standing  edifice,  especially  no  edifice  of  State,  but  has  had  the 
wise  and  brave  at  work  in  it,  contributing  their  lives  to  it  ; 
and  is  'cemented,'  whether  it  know  the  fact  or  not,  'by  the 
blood  of  heroes  ! '  None  ;  not  even  the  Foreign  Office,  Home 
Office,  still  less  the  National  Palaver  itself.  William  Con- 
queror, I  find,  must  have  had  a  first-rate  Home  Office,  for  his 
share.  The  Domesday  Book,  done  in  four  years,  and  done  as 
it  is,  with  such  an  admirable  brevity,  explicitness  and  com- 
pleteness, testifies  emphatically  what  kind  of  under-secretaries 
and  officials  William  had.  Silent  officials  and  secretaries,  I 
suppose  ;  not  wasting  themselves  in  parliamentary  talk  ;  re- 
serving all  their  intelligence  for  silent  survey  of  the  huge 
dumb  fact,  silent  consideration  how  they  might  compass  the 
mastery  of  that.    Happy  secretaries,  happy  William  ! 


100 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


But  indeed  nobody  knows  what  inarticulate  traditions, 
remnants  of  old  wisdom,  priceless  though  quite  anonymous, 
survive  in  many  modern  things  that  still  have  life  in  them. 
Ben  Brace,  with  his  taciturnities,  and  rugged  stoical  ways,  with 
his  tarry  breeches,  stiff  as  plank-breeches,  I  perceive  is  still 
a  kind  of  Lod-brog  (Loaded-breeks)  in  more  senses  than  one  ; 
and  derives,  little  conscious  of  it,  many  of  his  excellences  from 
the  old  Seakings  and  Saxon  Pirates  themselves  ;  and  how 
many  Blakes  and  Nelsons  since  have  contributed  to  Ben! 
"  Things  are  not  so  false  always  as  they  seem,"  said  a  certain 
Professor  to  me  once  :  "  of  this  you  will  find  instances  in  every 
country,  and  in  your  England  more  than  any — and  I  hope 
will  draw  lessons  from  them.  An  English  Seventy-four,  if  you 
look  merely  at  the  articulate  law  and  methods  of  it,  is  one  of 
the  impossiblest  entities.  The  captain  is  appointed  not  by 
preeminent  merit  in  sailorship,  but  by  parliamentary  connex- 
ion ;  the  men  "  (this  was  spoken  some  years  ago)  "  are  got  by 
impressment ;  a  press-gang  goes  out,  knocks  men  down  on  the 
streets  of  sea-towns,  and  drags  them  on  board, — if  the  ship 
were  to  be  stranded,  I  have  heard  they  would  nearly  all  run 
ashore  and  desert.  Can  anything  be  more  unreasonable  than 
a  Seventj'-four  ?  Articulately  almost  nothing.  But  it  has  in- 
articulate traditions,  ancient  methods  and  habitudes  in  it> 
stoicisms,  noblenesses,  true  rules  both  of  sailing  and  of  con- 
duct ;  enough  to  keep  it  afloat  on  Nature's  veridical  bosom,  after 
all.  See  ;  if  you  bid  it  sail  to  the  end  of  the  world,  it  will 
lift  anchor,  go,  and  arrive.  The  raging  oceans  do  not  beat  it 
back  ;  it  too,  as  well  as  the  raging  oceans,  has  a  relationship 
to  Nature,  and  it  does  not  sink,  but  under  the  due  conditions 
is  borne  along.  If  it  meet  with  hurricanes,  it  rides  them  out ; 
if  it  meet  an  Enemy's  ship,  it  shivers  it  to  powder ;  and  in 
short,  it  holds  on  its  way,  and  to  a  wonderful  extent  does 
what  it  means  and  pretends  to  do.  Assure  yourself,  my  friend, 
there  is  an  immense  fund  of  truth  somewhere  or  other  stowed 
in  that  Seventy-four." 

More  important  than  the  past  history  of  these  Offices  in 
Downing  Street,  is  the  question  of  their  future  history  ;  the 
question,  How  they  are  to  be  got  mended  !   Truly  an  immense 


DOWNING  STREET. 


101 


problem,  inclusive  of  all  others  whatsoever ;  which  demands 
to  be  attacked,  and  incessantly  persisted  in,  by  all  good  citi- 
zens, as  the  grand  problem  of  Society,  and  the  one  thing  need- 
ful for  the  Commonwealth !  A  problem  in  which  all  men, 
with  all  their  wisdoms  and  all  their  virtues,  faithfully  and 
continually  cooperating  at  it,  will  never  have  done  enough,  and 
will  still  only  be  struggling  towards  perfection  in  it.  In  which 
some  men  can  do  much  ; — in  which  every  man  can  do  some- 
thing. Every  man,  and  thou  my  present  Reader  canst  do 
this  :  Be  thyself  a  man  abler  to  be  governed  ;  more  reverencing 
the  divine  faculty  of  governing,  more  sacredly  detesting  the 
diabolical  semblance  of  said  faculty  in  self  and  others  ;  so 
shalt  thou,  if  not  govern,  yet  actually  according  to  thy  strength 
assist  in  real  governing.  And  know  always,  and  even  lay  to 
heart  with  a  quite  unusual  solemnity,  with  a  seriousness  alto- 
gether of  a  religious  nature,  that  as  '  Human  Stupidity '  is 
verily  the  accursed  parent  of  all  this  mischief,  so  Human  In- 
telligence alone,  to  which  and  to  which  only  is  victory  and 
blessedness  appointed  here  below,  will  or  can  cure  it.  If  we 
knew  this  as  devoutly  as  we  ought  to  do,  the  evil,  and  all  other 
evils  were  curable  ; — alas,  if  we  had  from  of  old  known  this,  as 
all  men  made  in  God's  image  ought  to  do,  the  evil  never  would 
have  been  !  Perhaps  few  Nations  have  ever  known  it  less  than 
we,  for  a  good  while  back,  have  done.    Hence  these  sorrows. 

"What  a  people  are  the  poor  Thibet  idolaters,  compared  with 
us  and  our  'religions,' which  issue  in  the  worship  of  King 
Hudson  as  our  Dalai-Lama  !  They,  across  such  hulls  of  abject 
ignorance,  have  seen  into  the  heart  of  the  matter  ;  we,  with 
our  torches  of  knowledge  everywhere  brandishing  themselves, 
and  such  a  human  enlightenment  as  never  was  before,  have 
quite  missed  it.  Reverence  for  Human  Worth,  earnest  devout 
search  for  it  and  encouragement  of  it,  loyal  furtherance  and 
obedience  to  it :  this,  I  say,  is  the  outcome  and  essence  of  all 
true  'religions,'  and  was  and  ever  will  be.  We  have  not 
known  this.  No  ;  loud  as  our  tongues  sometimes  go  in  that 
direction,  we  have  no  true  reverence  for  Human  Intelligence, 
for  Human  Worth  and  Wisdom :  none,  or  too  little, — and  I 
pray  for  a  restoration  of  such  reverence,  as  for  the  change 


102 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


from  Stj^gian  darkness  to  Heavenly  light,  as  for  the  return  of 
life  to  poor  sick  moribund  Society  and  all  its  interests.  Hu- 
man Intelligence  means  little  for  most  of  us  but  Beaver  Contriv- 
ance, which  produces  spinning  mules,  cheap  cotton,  and  largo 
fortunes.    Wisdom,  unless  it  give  us  railway  scrip,  is  not  wise. 

True  nevertheless  it  forever  remains  that  Intellect  is  the 
real  object  of  reverence,  and  of  devout  prayer,  and  zealous 
wish  and  pursuit,  among  the  sons  of  men  ;  and  even,  well  un- 
derstood, the  one  object.  It  is  the  Inspiration  of  the  Almighty 
that  giveth  men  understanding.  For  it  must  be  repeated, 
and  ever  again  repeated  till  poor  mortals  get  to  discern  it,  and 
awake  from  their  baleful  paralysis,  and  degradation  under 
foul  enchantments,  That  a  man  of  Intellect,  of  real  and  not 
sham  Intellect,  is  by  the  nature  of  him  likewise  inevitably  a 
man  of  nobleness,  a  man  of  courage,  rectitude,  pious  strength  ; 
who,  even  because  he  is  and  has  been  loyal  to  the  Laws  of  this 
Universe,  is  initiated  into  discernment  of  the  same  ;  to  this 
hour  a  Missioned  of  Heaven  ;  whom  if  men  follow,  it  will  be 
well  with  them  ;  whom  if  men  do  not  follow,  it  will  not  be 
well.  Human  Intellect,  if  you  consider  it  well,  is  the  exact 
summary  of  Human  Worth ;  and  the  essence  of  all  worth- 
ships  and  worships  is  reverence  for  that  same.  This  much 
surprises  you,  friend  Peter  ;  but  I  assure  you  it  is  the  fact ; — 
and  I  would  advise  you  to  consider  it,  and  to  try  if  you  too  do 
not  gradually  find  it  so.  With  me  it  has  long  been  an  article, 
not  of  '  faith '  only,  but  of  settled  insight,  of  conviction  as 
to  what  the  ordainments  of  the  Maker  in  this  Universe  are. 
Ah,  could  you  and  the  rest  of  us  but  get  to  know  it,  and 
everywhere  religiously  act  upon  it, — as  our  Fortieth  Article, 
which  includes  all  the  other  Thirty-nine,  and  without  which 
the  Thirty-nine  are  good  for  almost  nothing, — there  might 
then  be  some  hope  for  us  !  In  this  world  there  is  but  one  up- 
palling  creature  :  the  Stupid  man  considered  to  be  the  Mis- 
sioned of  Heaven,  and  followed  by  men.  He  is  our  King,  men 
say,  he  ; — and  they  follow  him,  through  straight  or  winding 
courses,  I  for  one  know  well  whitherward. 

Abler  men  in  Downing  Street,  abler  men  to  govern  us : 
yes,  that,  sure  enough,  would  gradually  remove  the  dung 


DOWNING  STREET. 


103 


mountains,  however  high  they  are  ;  that  would  be  the  way, 
nor  is  there  any  other  way,  to  remedy  whatsoever  has  gone 
wrong  in  Downing  Street  and  in  the  wide  regions,  spiritual 
and  temporal,  which  Downing  Street  presides  over  !  For  the 
Able  Man,  meet  him  where  you  may,  is  definable  as  the  born 
enemy  of  Falsity  and  Anarchy,  and  the  born  soldier  of  Truth 
and  Order  ;  into  what  absurdest  element  soever  you  put  him, 
he  is  there  to  make  it  a  little  less  absurd,  to  fight  continually 
with  it  till  it  become  a  little  sane  and  human  again.  Peace 
on  other  terms  he,  for  his  part,  cannot  make  with  it  ;  not  he, 
while  he  continues  able,  or  possessed  of  real  intellect  and  not 
imaginary.  There  is  but  one  man  fraught  with  blessings  for 
this  world,  fated  to  diminish  and  successively  abolish  the  curses 
of  the  world  ;  and  it  is  he.  For  him  make  search,  him  rever- 
ence and  follow ;  know  that  to  find  him  or  miss  him,  means 
victory  or  defeat  for  you,  in  all  Downing  Streets,  and  estab- 
lishments and  enterprises  here  below.  1  leave  your  Lord- 
ship to  judge  whether  this  has  been  our  practice  hitherto  ; 
and  would  humbly  inquire  what  your  Lordship  thinks  is  likely 
to  be  the  consequence  of  continuing  to  neglect  this.  It  ought 
to  have  been  our  practice ;  ought,  in  all  places  and  all  times, 
to  be  the  practice  in  this  world  ;  so  says  the  fixed  law  of  things 
forevermore  : — and  it  must  cease  to  be  not  the  practice,  your 
Lordship  ;  and  cannot  too  speedily  do  so,  I  think  ! — 

Much  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  reforming  Parliament  in 
late  years  ;  but  that  of  itself  seems  to  avail  nothing,  or  almost 
less.  The  men  that  sit  in  Downing  Street,  governing  us,  are 
not  abler  men  since  the  Reform  Bill  than  were  those  before  it. 
Precisely  the  same  kind  of  men  ;  obedient  formerly  to  Tory 
traditions,  obedient  now  to  "Whig  ditto  and  popular  clamourSo 
Respectable  men  of  office  :  respectably  commonplace  in  faculty, 
— while  the  situation  is  becoming  terribly  original !  Render- 
ing their  outlooks,  and  ours,  more  ominous  every  day. 

Indisputably  enough  the  meaning  of  all  reform-movement, 
electing  and  electioneering,  of  popular  agitation,  parliamentary 
eloquence,  and  all  political  effort  whatsoever,  is  that  you  may 
get  the  ten  Ablest  Men  in  England  put  to  preside  over  your 
ten  principal  departments  of  affairs.    To  sift  and  riddle  the 


104 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


Nation,  so  that  you  might  extricate  and  sift-out  the  true  ten 
gold  grains,  or  ablest  men,  and  of  these  make  your  Governors 
or  Public  Officers  ;  leaving  the  dross  and  common  sandy  or 
silty  material  safely  aside,  as  the  thing  to  be  governed,  not  to 
govern  ;  certainly  all  ballot-boxes,  caucuses,  Kennington-Com- 
mon  meetings,  Parliamentary  debatings,  Red  Republics,  Rus- 
sian Despotisms,  and  constitutional  or  unconstitutional  meth- 
ods of  society  among  mankind,  are  intended  to  achieve  this 
one  end  ;  and  some  of  them,  it  will  be  owned,  achieve  it  very 
ill ! — If  you  have  got  your  gold  grains,  if  the  men  you  have 
got  are  actually  the  ablest,  then  rejoice  ;  with  whatever  aston- 
ishment, accept  your  Ten,  and  thank  the  gods  ;  under  this  Ten 
your  destruction  will  at  least  be  milder  than  under  another. 
But  if  you  have  not  got  them,  if  you  are  very  far  from  having 
got  them,  then  do  not  rejoice  at  all,  then  lament  very  much  ; 
then  admit  that  your  sublime  political  constitutions  and  con- 
trivances do  not  prove  themselves  sublime,  but  ridiculous  and 
contemptible  ;  that  your  world's  wonder  of  a  political  mill,  the 
envy  of  surroundiug  nations,  does  not  yield  you  real  meal ; 
yields  you  only  powder  of  millstones  (called  Hansard  Debat- 
ings), and  a  detestable  brown  substance  not  unlike  the  grind- 
ing^ of  dried  horse-dung  or  prepared  street-mud,  which  though 
sold  under  royal  patent,  and  much  recommended  by  the  trade, 
is  quite  unfit  for  culinary  purposes  ! — 

But  the  disease  at  least  is  not  mysterious,  whatever  the 
remedy  be.  Our  disease, — alas,  is  it  not  clear  as  the  sun,  that 
we  suffer  under  what  is  the  disease  of  all  the  miserable  in  this 
world,  want  of  wisdom  ;  that  in  the  Head  there  is  no  vision, 
and  that  thereby  all  the  members  are  dark  and  in  bonds?  No 
vision  in  the  head  ;  heroism,  faith,  devout  insight  to  discern 
what  is  needful,  noble  courage  to  do  it,  greatly  defective 
there  :  not  seeing  eyes  there,  but  spectacles  constitutionally 
ground,  which,  to  the  unwary,  seem  to  see.  A  quite  fatal  cir- 
cumstance, had  you  never  so  many  Parliaments  !  How  is  your 
ship  to  be  steered  by  a  Pilot  with  no  eyes  but  a  pair  of  glass 
ones  got  from  the  constitutional  optician  ?  He  must  steer  by 
the  ear j  I  think,  rather  than  by  the  eye  ;  by  the  shoutings  he 


DOWNING  STREET. 


105 


catches  from  the  shore,  or  from  the  Parliamentary  benches 
nearer  hand  : — one  of  the  frightfulest  objects  to  see  steering 
in  a  difficult  sea  !  Reformed  Parliaments  in  that  case,  reform- 
leagues,  outer  agitations  and  excitements  in  never  such  abun- 
dance, cannot  profit :  all  this  is  but  the  writhing,  and  painful 
blind  convulsion  of  the  limbs  that  are  in  bonds,  that  are  all 
in  dark  misery  till  the  head  be  delivered,  till  the  pressure  on 
the  brain  be  removed. 

Or  perhaps  there  is  now  no  heroic  wisdom  left  in  England  ; 
England,  once  the  land  of  heroes,  is  itself  sunk  now  to  a  dim 
owlery,  and  habitation  of  doleful  creatures,  intent  only  on 
money-making  and  other  forms  of  catching  mice,  for  whom 
the  proper  gospel  is  the  gospel  of  M'Croudy,  and  all  nobler 
impulses  and  insights  are  forbidden  henceforth?  Perhaps 
these  present  agreeable  Occupants  of  Downing  Street,  such  as 
the  parliamentary  mill  has  yielded  them,  are  the  best  the  mis- 
erable soil  had  grown  ?  The  most  Herculean  Ten  Men  that 
could  be  found  among  the  English  Twenty-seven  Millions,  are 
these  ?  There  are  not,  in  any  place,  under  any  figure,  ten 
diviner  men  among  us  ?  Well ;  in  that  case,  the  riddling  and 
searching  of  the  twenty-seven  millions  has  been  successful. 
Here  are  our  ten  divinest  men  ;  with  these,  unhappily  not 
divine  enough,  we  must  even  content  ourselves  and  die  in 
peace  ;  what  help  is  there  ?    No  help,  no  hope,  in  that  case. 

But,  again,  if  these  are  not  our  divinest  men,  then  evident- 
ly there  always  is  hope,  there  always  is  possibility  of  help  ; 
and  ruin  never  is  quite  inevitable,  till  we  have  sifted  out  our 
actually  divinest  ten,  and  set  these  to  try  their  hand  at  gov- 
erning ! — That  this  has  been  achieved  ;  that  these  ten  men 
are  the  most  Herculean  souls  the  English  population  held 
within  it,  is  a  proposition  credible  to  no  mortal.  No,  thank 
God  ;  low  as  we  are  sunk  in  many  ways,  this  is  not  yet  credi- 
ble !  Evidently  the  reverse  of  this  proposition  is  the  fact. 
Ten  much  diviner  men  do  certainly  exist.  By  some  conceiv- 
able, not  forever  impossible,  method  and  methods,  ten  very 
much  diviner  men  could  be  sifted  out ! — Courage  ;  let  us  fix 
our  eyes  on  that  important  fact,  and  strive  all  thitherward  as 
towards  a  door  of  hope  ! 


106 


LA  TTER-DA  Y  PAMPHLETS. 


Parliaments,  I  think,  have  proved  too  well,  in  late  years, 
that  they  are  not  the  remedy.  It  is  not  Parliaments,  reform- 
ed or  other,  that  will  ever  send  Herculean  men  to  Downing 
Street,  to  reform  Downing  Street  for  us  ;  to  diffuse  therefrom 
a  light  of  Heavenly  Order,  instead  of  the  murk  of  Stygian 
Anarchy,  over  this  sad  world  of  ours.  That  function  does  not 
lie  in  the  capacities  of  Parliament.  That  is  the  function  of  a 
King, — if  we  could  get  such  a  priceless  entity,  which  we  can- 
not just  now !  Failing  which,  Statesmen,  or  Temporary- 
Kings,  and  at  the  very  lowest  one  real  Statesman,  to  shape  the 
dim  tendencies  of  Parliament,  and  guide  them  wisely  to  the 
goal  :  he,  I  perceive,  will  be  a  primary  condition,  indispensa- 
ble for  any  progress  whatsoever. 

One  such,  perhaps,  might  be  attained  ;  one  such  might 
prove  discoverable  among  our  Parliamentary  populations  ? 
That  one,  in  such  an  enterprise  as  this  of  Downing  Street, 
might  be  invaluable  !  One  noble  man,  at  once  of  natural  wis- 
dom and  practical  experience  ;  one  Intellect  still  really  human, 
and  not  redtapish,  owlish  and  pedantical,  appearing  there  in 
that  dim  chaos,  with  word  of  command  ;  to  brandish  Hercu- 
les-like the  divine  broom  and  shovel,  and  turn  running  water 
in  upon  the  place,  and  say  as  with  a  fiat,  "Here  shall  be  truth, 
and  real  work,  and  talent  to  do  it  henceforth  ;  I  will  seek  for 
able  men  to  work  here,  as  for  the  elixir  of  life  to  this  poor 
place  and  me  :" — what  might  not  one  such  man  effect  there  ! 

Nay  one  such  is  not  to  be  dispensed  with  anywhere  in  the 
affairs  of  men.  In  every  ship,  I  say,  there  must  be  a  seeing 
pilot,  not  a  mere  hearing  one  !  It  is  evident  you  can  never 
get  your  ship  steered  through  the  difficult  straits  by  persons 
standing  ashore,  on  this  bank  and  that,  and  shouting  their 
confused  directions  to  you  :  "  'Ware  that  Colonial  Sandbank  ! 
: — Starboard  now,  the  Nigger  Question  ! — Larboard,  larboard, 
the  Suffrage  Movement ! — Financial  Reform,  your  Clothing- 
Colonels  overboard  !  The  Qualification  Movement,  'Ware-re- 
re  ! — Helm-a-lee  !  Bear  a  hand  there,  will  you  !  Hr-r-r,  lub- 
bers,  imbeciles,  fitter  for  a  tailor's  shopboar.l  than  a  holm  of 
Government,  Hr-r-r  ! " — And  so  the  ship  wriggles  and  tum- 
bles, and,   on   the  whole,  goes  as  wind  and  current  drive. 


DOWNING  STREET. 


107 


No  ship  was  ever  steered  except  to  destruction  in  that  man- 
ner. I  deliberately  say  so  :  no  ship  of  a  State  either.  If  you 
cannot  get  a  real  pilot  on  board,  and  put  the  helm  into  his 
hands,  your  ship  is  as  good  as  a  wreck.  One  real  pilot  on 
board  may  save  you  ;  all  the  bellowing  from  the  banks  that 
ever  was,  will  not  and  by  the  nature  of  things  cannot.  Nay 
your  pilot  will  have  to  succeed,  if  he  do  succeed,  very  much 
in  spite  of  said  bellowing  ;  he  will  hear  all  that,  and  regard 
very  little  of  it, — in  a  patient  mild-spoken  wise  manner,  will 
regard  all  of  it  as  what  it  is.  And  I  never  doubt  but  there  is 
in  Parliament  itself,  in  spite  of  its  vague  palaverings  which 
fill  us  with  despair  in  these  times,  a  dumb  instinct  of  inartic- 
ulate sense  and  stubborn  practical  English  insight  and  ve- 
racity, that  would  manfully  support  a  Statesman  who  could 
take  command  with  really  manful  notions  of  Reform,  and  as 
one  deserving  to  be  obeyed.  O  for  one  such  ;  even  one  ! 
More  precious  to  us  than  all  the  bullion  in  the  Bank,  or  per- 
haps that  ever  was  in  it,  just  now  ! 

For  it  is  Wisdom  alone  that  can  recognise  wisdom  :  Folly 
or  Imbecility  never  can  ;  and  that  is  the  fatalest  ban  it  labours 
under,  dooming  it  to  perpetual  failure  in  all  things.  Failure 
which,  in  Downing  Street  and  places  of  command,  is  especially 
accursed ;  cursing  not  one  but  hundreds  of  millions  !  Who 
is  there  that  can  recognise  real  intellect,  and  do  reverence  to  it ; 
and  discriminate  it  well  from  sham  intellect,  which  is  so  much 
more  abundant,  and  deserves  the  reverse  of  reverence?  He 
that  himself  has  it ! — One  really  human  Intellect,  invested  with 
command,  and  charged  to  reform  Downing  Street  for  us, 
would  continually  attract  real  intellect  to  those  regions,  and 
with  a  divine  magnetism  search  it  out  from  the  modest  cor- 
ners where  it  lies  hid.  And  every  new  accession  of  intellect 
to  Downing  Street  would  bring  to  it  benefit  only,  and  would 
increase  such  divine  attraction  in  it,  the  parent  of  all  benefit 
there  and  elsewhere ! 


(i  What  method,  then  ;  by  what  method  ? "  ask  many. — 
Method,  alas  !    To  secure  an  increased  supply  of  Human  in- 


108 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


tellect  to  Downing  Street,  there  will  evidently  be  no  quite 
effectual  '  method  '  but  that  of  increasing  the  supply  of  Human 
Intellect,  otherwise  definable  as  Human  Worth,  in  Society 
generally  ;  increasing  the  supply  of  sacred  reverence  for  it,  of 
loyalty  to  it,  and  of  life-and-death  desire  and  pursuit  of  it, 
among  all  classes, — if  we  but  knew  such  a  '  method ' !  Alas, 
that  were  simply  the  method  of  making  all  classes  Servants 
of  Heaven  ;  and  except  it  be  devout  prayer  to  Heaven,  I  have 
never  heard  of  any  method  !  To  increase  the  reverence  for 
Human  Intellect  or  God's  Light,  and  the  detestation  of  Hu- 
man Stupidity  or  the  Devil's  Darkness,  what  method  is  there  ? 
No  method, — except  even  this,  that  we  should  each  of  u? 
'  pray '  for  it,  instead  of  praying  for  mere  scrip  and  the  like  ; 
that  Heaven  would  please  to  vouchsafe  us  each  a  little  of  it, 
one  by  one  !  As  perhaps  Heaven,  in  its  infinite  bounty,  by 
stern  methods,  gradually  will?  Perhaps  Heaven  has  mercy 
too  in  these  sore  plagues  that  are  oppressing  us  ;  and  means 
to  teach  us  reverence  for  Heroism  and  Human  Intellect,  by 
such  baleful  experience  of  what  issue  Imbecility  and  Parlia- 
mentary Eloquence  lead  to  ?  Such  reverence,  I  do  hope,  and 
even  discover  and  observe,  is  silently  yet  extensively  going  on 
among  us  even  in  these  sad  years.  In  which  small  salutary 
fact  there  burns  for  us,  in  this  blackcoil  of  universal  baseness 
fast  becoming  universal  wretchedness,  an  inextinguishable 
hope  ;  far-off  but  sure,  a  divine  '  pillar  of  fire  by  night.'  Cour- 
age, courage  ! — 

Meanwhile,  that  our  one  reforming  Statesman  may  have 
free  command  of  what  Intellect  there  is  among  us,  and  room 
to  try  all  means  for  awakening  and  inviting  ever  more  of 
it,  there  has  one  small  Project  of  Improvement  been  sug- 
gested ;  which  finds  a  certain  degree  of  favour  wherever  I 
hear  it  talked  of,  and  which  seems  to  merit  much  more  con- 
sideration than  it  has  yet  received.  Practical  men  themselves 
approve  of  it  hitherto,  so  far  as  it  goes ;  the  one  objection 
being  that  the  world  is  not  yet  prepared  to  insist  on  it,— 
which  of  course  the  world  can  never  be,  till  once  the  world 
consider  it,  and  in  the  first  place  hear  tell  of  it !    I  have,  for 


DOWNING  STREET. 


109 


my  own  part,  a  good  opinion  of  this  project.  The  old  unre- 
formed  Parliament  of  rotten  boroughs  had  one  advantage  ; 
but  that  is  hereby,  in  a  far  more  fruitful  and  effectual  man- 
ner, secured  to  the  new. 

The  Proposal  is,  That  Secretaries  under  and  upper,  that  all 
manner  of  changeable  or  permanent  servants  in  the  Govern- 
ment Offices  shall  be  selected  without  reference  to  their  power 
of  getting  into  Parliament ; — that,  in  short,  the  Queen  shall 
have  power  of  nominating  the  half-dozen  or  half-score  Officers 
of  the  Administration,  whose  presence  is  thought  necessary 
in  Parliament,  to  official  seats  there,  without  reference  to  any 
constituency  but  her  own  only,  which  of  course  will  mean  her 
Prime  Minister's.  A  very  small  encroachment  on  the  present 
constitution  of  Parliament ;  offering  the  minimum  of  change 
in  present  methods,  and  I  almost  think  a  maximum  in  results 
to  be  derived  therefrom. — The  Queen  nominates  John  Thomas 
(the  fittest  man  she,  much-inquiring,  can  hear  tell  of  in  her 
three  kingdoms)  President  of  the  Poor-Law  Board,  Under 
Secretary  of  the  Colonies,  Under,  or  perhaps  even  Upper  Sec- 
retary of  what  she  and  her  Premier  find  suitablest  for  a  work- 
ing head  so  eminent,  a  talent  so  precious  ;  and  grants  him, 
by  her  direct  authority,  seat  and  vote  in  Parliament  so  long 
as  he  holds  that  office.  Upper  Secretaries,  having  more  to 
do  in  Parliament,  and  being  so  bound  to  be  in  favour  there, 
would,  I  suppose,  at  least  till  new  times  and  habits  come,  be 
expected  to  be  chosen  from  among  the  people's  Members  as  at 
present.  But  whether  the  Prime  Minister  himself  is,  in  all 
times,  bound  to  be  first  a  People's  Member  ;  and  which,  or 
how  many,  of  his  Secretaries  and  subordinates  he  might  be 
allowed  to  take  as  Queens  Members,  rny  authority  does  not 
say, — perhaps  has  not  himself  settled  ;  the  project  being- 
yet  in  mere  outline  or  foreshadow,  the  practical  embodiment 
in  all  details  to  be  fixed  by  authorities  much  more  competent 
than  he.  The  soul  of  his  project  is,  That  the  Crown  also 
have  power  to  elect  a  few  members  to  Parliament. 

From  which  project,  however  wisely  it  were  embodied,  there 
could  probably,  at  first  or  all  at  once,  no  great  '  accession  of 
intellect '  to  the  Government  Offices  ensue  ;  though  a  little 


110 


LATTER-DA  J  PAMPHLETS. 


might,  even  at  first,  and  a  little  is  always  precious  :  but  in  its 
ulterior  operation,  were  that  faithfully  developed,  and  wisely 
presided  over,  I  fancy  an  immense  accession  of  intellect  might 
ensue  ; — nay  a  natural  ingress  might  thereby  be  opened  to  all 
manner  of  accessions,  and  the  actual  flower  of  whatever  intel- 
lect the  British  Nation  had  might  be  attracted  towards  Down- 
ing Street,  and  continue  flowing  steadily  thither  !  For,  let  us 
see  a  little  what  effects  this  simple  change  carries  in  it  the 
possibilities  of.  Here  are  beneficent  germs,  which  the  pres- 
ence of  one  truly  wise  man  as  Chief  Minister,  steadily  foster- 
ing them  for  even  a  few  years,  with  the  sacred  fidelity  and 
vigilance  that  wTould  beseem  him,  might  ripen  into  living 
practices  and  habitual  facts,  invaluable  to  us  all. 

What  it  is  that  Secretaries  of  State,  Managers  of  Colonial 
Establishments,  of  Home  and  Foreign  Government  interests, 
have  really  and  truly  to  do  in  Parliament,  might  admit  of  va- 
rious estimate  in  these  times.  An  apt  debater  in  Parliament 
is  by  no  means  certain  to  be  an  able  administrator  of  Colonies, 
of  Home  or  Foreign  Affairs  ;  nay,  rather  quite  the  contrary  is 
to  be  presumed  of  him  ;  for  in  order  to  become  a  '  brilliant 
speaker,'  if  that  is  his  character,  considerable  portions  of  his 
natural  internal  endowment  must  have  gone  to  the  surface,  in 
order  to  make  a  shining  figure  there,  and  precisely  so  much 
the  less  (few  men  in  these  days  know  how  much  less  !)  must 
remain  available  in  the  internal  silent  state,  or  as  faculty  for 
thinking,  for  devising  and  acting,  which  latter  and  which  alone 
is  the  function  essential  for  him  in  his  Secretaryship.  Not  to 
tell  a  good  story  for  himself '  in  Parliament  and  to  the  twenty- 
seven  millions,  many  of  them  fools  ; '  not  that,  but  to  do  good 
administration,  to  know  with  sure  eye,  and  decide  with  just 
and  resolute  heart,  what  is  what  in  the  things  committed  to 
his  charge  :  this  and  not  that  is  the  service  which  poor  Eng- 
land, whatever  it  may  think  and  maunder,  does  require  and 
want  of  the  Official  Man  in  Downing  Street.  Given  a  good 
Official  Man  or  Secretary,  he  really  ought,  as  far  as  it  is  pos- 
sible, to  be  left  working  in  the  silent  state.  No  mortal  can 
both  work  and  do  good  talking  in  Parliament,  or  out  of  it  : 
the  feat  is  impossible  as  that  of  serving  two  hostile  masters. 


DOWNING  STREET. 


Ill 


Nor  would  I,  if  it  could  be  helped,  much  trouble  my  good 
Secretary  with  addressing  Parliament  :  needful  explanations  ; 
yes,  in  a  free  country,  surely  ; — but  not  to  every  frivolous  and 
vexatious  person,  in  or  out  of  Parliament,  who  chooses  to  ap- 
ply for  them.  There  should  be  demands  for  explanation  too 
which  were  reckoned  frivolous  and  vexatious,  and  censured  as 
such.  These,  I  should  say,  are  the  not  needful  explanations  : 
and  if  my  poor  Secretary  is  to  be  called  out  from  his  work- 
shop to  answer  every  one  of  these, — his  workshop  will  become 
(what  we  at  present  see  it,  deservedly  or  not)  little  other  than 
a  pillor}'  ;  the  poor  Secretary  a  kind  of  talking-machine,  ex- 
posed to  dead-cats  and  rotten-eggs  ;  and  the  '  work  '  got  out 
of  him  or  of  it  will,  as  heretofore,  be  very  inconsiderable  in- 
deed ! — Alas,  on  this  side  also,  important  improvements  are 
conceivable  ;  and  will  even,  I  imagine,  get  them  whence  we 
may,  be  found  indispensable  one  day.  The  honourable  gentle- 
man whom  you  interrupt  here,  he,  in  his  official  capacity,  is 
not  an  individual  now,  but  the  embodiment  of  a  Nation  ;  he 
is  the  '  People  of  England '  engaged  in  the  work  of  Secretary- 
ship, this  one  ;  and  cannot  forever  afford  to  let  the  three  Tail- 
ors of  Tooley-street  break  in  upon  him  at  all  hours  ! — 

But  leaving  this,  let  us  remark  one  thing  Avhich  is  very 
plain  :  That  whatever  be  the  uses  and  duties,  real  or  sup- 
posed, of  a  Secretary  in  Parliament,  his  faculty  to  accomplish 
these  is  a  point  entirely  unconnected  with  his  ability  to  get 
elected  into  Parliament,  and  has  no  relation  or  proportion  to 
it,  and  no  concern  with  it  whatever.  Lord  Tommy  and  the 
Honourable  John  are  not  a  whit  better  qualified  for  Parlia- 
mentary duties,  to  say  nothing  of  Secretary  duties,  than  plain 
Tom  and  Jack  ;  they  are  merely  better  qualified,  as  matters 
stand,  for  getting  admitted  to  try  them.  Which  state  of  mat- 
ters a  reforming  Premier,  much  in  want  of  abler  men  to  help 
him,  now  proposes  altering.  Tom  and  Jack,  once  admitted 
by  the  Queen's  writ,  there  is  every  reason  to  suppose  will  do 
quite  as  well  there  as  Lord  Tommy  and  the  Honourable  John. 
In  Parliament  quite  as  well :  and  elsewhere,  in  the  other  in- 
finitely more  important  duties*  of  a  Government  Office,  which 
indeed  are  and  remain  the  essential,  vital  and  intrinsic  duties 


112 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


of  such  a  personage,  is  there  the  faintest  reason  to  surmise 
that  Tom  and  Jack,  if  well  chosen,  will  fall  short  of  Lord 
Tommy  and  the  Honourable  John  ?  No  shadow  of  a  reason. 
Were  the  intrinsic  genius  of  the  men  exactly  equal,  there  is 
no  shadow  of  a  reason  :  but  rather  there  is  quite  the  reverse  ; 
for  Tom  and  Jack  have  been  at  least  workers  all  their  days, 
not  idlers,  game-preservers  and  mere  human  clothes-horses, 
at  any  period  of  their  lives ;  and  have  gained  a  schooling 
thereby,  of  which  Lord  Tommy  and  the  Honourable  John, 
unhappily  strangers  to  it  for  most  part,  can  form  no  concep- 
tion !  Tom  and  Jack  have  already,  on  this  most  narrow  hy- 
pothesis, a  decided  superiority  of  likelihood  over  Lord  Tommy 
and  the  Honourable  John. 

But  the  hypothesis  is  very  narrow,  and  the  fact  is  very 
wide  ;  the  hypothesis  counts  by  units,  the  fact  by  millions. 
Consider  how  many  Toms  and  Jacks  there  are  to  choose  from, 
well  or  ill !  The  aristocratic  class  from  whom  Members  of 
Parliament  can  be  elected  extends  only  to  certain  thousands ; 
from  these  you  are  to  choose  your  Secretary,  if  a  seat  in  Par- 
liament is  the  primary  condition.  But  the  general  population 
is  of  Twenty-seven  Millions  ;  from  all  sections  of  which  you 
can  choose,  if  the  seat  in  Parliament  is  not  to  be  primary. 
Make  it  ultimate  instead  of  primary,  a  last  investiture  instead 
of  a  first  indispensable  condition,  and  the  whole  British  Na- 
tion, learned,  unlearned,  professional,  practical,  speculative 
and  miscellaneous,  is  at  your  disposal !  In  the  lowest  broad 
strata  of  the  population,  equally  as  in  the  highest  and  nar- 
rowest, are  produced  men  of  every  kind  of  genius ;  man  for 
man,  your  chance  of  genius  is  as  good  among  the  millions  as 
among  the  units ; — and  class  for  class,  what  must  it  be  ! 
From  all '  classes,  not  from  certain  hundreds  now  but  from 
several  millions,  whatsoever  man  the  gods  had  gifted  with 
intellect  and  nobleness,  and  power  to  help  his  country,  could 
be  chosen  :  O  Heavens,  could, — if  not  by  Tenpound  Constit- 
uencies and  the  force  of  beer,  then  by  a  Reforming  Premier 
with  eyes  in  his  head,  who  I  think  might  do  it  quite  infinitely 
better.  Infinitely  better.  For  ignobleness  cannot,  by  the  na- 
ture of  it,  choose  the  noble  :  no,  there  needs  a  seeing  man 


DOWNING  STREET. 


113 


who  is  himself  noble,  cognisant  by  internal  experience  of  the 
symptoms  of  nobleness.  Shall  we  never  think  of  this  ;  shall 
we  never  more  remember  this,  then  ?  It  is  forever  true  ;  and 
Nature  and  Fact,  however  we  may  rattle  our  ballot-boxes,  do 
at  no  time  forget  it. 

From  the  lowest  and  broadest  stratum  of  Society,  where 
the  births  are  by  the  million,  there  was  born,  almost  in  our 
own  memory,  a  Robert  Burns  ;  son  of  one  who  '  had  not  cap- 
ital for  his  poor  moor-farm  of  Twenty  Pounds  a-year.'  Rob- 
ert Burns  never  had  the  smallest  chance  to  get  into  Parlia- 
ment, much  as  Robert  Burns  deserved,  for  all  our  sakes,  to 
have  been  found  there.  For  the  man, — it  was  not  known  to 
men  purblind,  sunk  in  their  poor  dim  vulgar  element,  but 
might  have  been  known  to  men  of  insight  who  had  any  loy- 
alty or  any  royalty  of  their  own, — was  a  born  king  of  men  : 
full  of  valour,  of  intelligence  and  heroic  nobleness  ;  fit  for  far 
other  work  than  to  break  his  heart  among  poor  mean  mortals, 
gauging  beer !  Him  no  Tenpound  Constituency  chose,  nor 
did  any  Reforming  Premier  :  in  the  deep-sunk  British  Nation, 
overwhelmed  in  foggy  stupor,  with  the  loadstars  all  gone  out 
for  it,  there  was  no  whisper  of  a  notion  that  it  could  be  desir- 
able to  choose  him, — excej^t  to  come  and  dine  with  you,  and 
in  the  interim  to  gauge.  And  yet  heaven-born  Mr.  Pitt,  at 
that  period,  was  by  no  means  without  need  of  Heroic  Intellect, 
for  other  purposes  than  gauging  !  But  sorrowful  strangula- 
tion by  redtape,  much  tighter  then  than  it  now  is  when  so 
many  revolutionary  earthquakes  have  tussled  it,  quite  tied 
up  the  meagre  Pitt ;  and  he  said,  on  hearing  of  this  Burns 
and  his  sad  hampered  case,  "Literature  will  take  care  of  it- 
self."— "Yes,  and  of  you  too,  if  you  don't  mind  it !  "  answers 
one. 

And  so,  like  Apollo  taken  for  a  Neatherd,  and  perhaps  for 
none  of  the  best  on  the  Admetus  establishment,  this  new 
Norse  Thor  had  to  put  up  with  what  was  going  ;  to  gauge 
ale,  and  be  thankful  ;  pouring  his  celestial  sunlight  through 
Scottish  Song-wrriting, — the  narrowest  chink  ever  offered  to  a 
Thundergod  before  !  And  the  meagre  Pitt,  and  his  Dundas- 
ses  and  redtape  Phantasms  (growing  very  ghastly  now  to  think 
8 


114 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


of),  did  not  in  the  least  know  or  understand,  the  impious, 
god-forgetting  mortals,  that  Heroic  Intellects,  if  Heaven  were 
pleased  to  send  such,  were  the  one  salvation  for  the  world  and 
for  them  and  all  of  us.  No  ;  they  '  had  done  very  well  with- 
out '  such  ;  did  not  see  the  use  of  such  ;  went  along  '  very 
well '  without  such  ;  well  presided  over  by  a  singular  Heroic 
Intellect  called  George  the  Third  :  and  the  Thundergod,  as 
was  rather  fit  of  him,  departed  early,  still  in  the  noon  of  life, 
somewhat  weary  of  gauging  ale  ! — O  Peter,  what  a  scandalous 
torpid  element  of  yellow  London  fog,  favourable  to  owls  only 
and  their  mousing  operations,  has  blotted  out  the  stars  of 
Heaven  for  us  these  several  generations  back, — which,  I  rejoice 
to  see,  is  now  visibly  about  to  take  itself  away  again,  or  per- 
haps to  be  dispelled  in  a  very  tremendous  manner ! 

For  the  sake  of  my  Democratic  friends,  one  other  observa- 
tion. Is  not  this  Proposal  the  very  essence  of  whatever  truth 
there  is  in  '  Democracy  ; '  this,  that  the  able  man  be  chosen, 
in  whatever  rank  he  is  found  ?  That  he  be  searched  for  as 
hidden  treasure  is  ;  be  trained,  supervised,  set  to  the  work 
which  he  alone  is  fit  for.  All  Democracy  lies  in  this  ;  this,  I 
think,  is  worth  all  the  ballot-boxes  and  suffrage-movements 
now  going.  Not  that  the  noble  soul,  born  poor,  should  be 
set  to  spout  in  Parliament,  but  that  he  should  be  set  to  assist 
in  governing  men  ;  this  is  our  grand  Democratic  interest. 
With  this  we  can  be  saved  ;  without  this,  were  there  a  Parlia- 
ment spouting  in  every  parish,  and  Hansard  Debates  to  stem 
the  Thames,  we  perish, — die  constitutionally  drowned,  in 
mere  oceans  of  palaver. 

All  reformers,  constitutional  persons,  and  men  capable  of 
reflection,  are  invited  to  reflect  on  these  things.  Let  us  brush 
the  cobwebs  from  our  eyes  ;  let  us  bid  the  inane  traditions 
be  silent  for  a  moment  ;  and  ask  ourselves,  like  men  dread- 
fully intent  on  having  it  done,  "By  what  method  or  methods 
can  the  able  men  from  every  rank  of  life  be  gathered,  as 
diamond-grains  from  the  general  mass  of  sand :  the  able  men, 
not  the  sham-able  ; — and  set  to  do  the  work  of  governing, 
contriving,  administering  and  guiding  for  us ! "    It  is  the 


DOWNING  STREET. 


115 


question  of  questions.  All  that  Democracy  ever  meant  lies 
there  :  the  attainment  of  a  truer  and  truer  Aristocracy,  or 
Government  again  by  the  Best. 

Reformed  Parliaments  have  lamentably  failed  to  attain  it 
for  us  ;  and  I  believe  will  and  must  forever  fail.  One  true 
Reforming  Statesman,  one  noble  worshipper  and  knower  of 
human  intellect,  with  the  quality  of  an  experienced  Politician 
too  ;  he,  backed  by  such  a  Parliament  as  England,  once  rec- 
ognising him,  would  loyally  send,  and  at  liberty  to  choose 
his  working  subalterns  from  all  the  Englishmen  alive  ;  he 
surely  might  do  something?  Something,  by  one  means  or 
another,  is  becoming  fearfully  necessary  to  be  done  !  He,  I 
think,  might  accomplish  more  for  us  in  ten  years,  than  the 
best  conceivable  Reformed  Parliament,  and  utmost  extension 
of  the  suffrage,  in  twice  or  ten  times  ten. 

What  is  extremely  important  too,  you  could  try  this  meth- 
od with  ^safety  ;  extension  of  the  suffrage  you  cannot  so  try. 
With  even  an  approximately  heroic  Prime  Minister,  you  could 
get  nothing  but  good  from  prescribing  to  him  thus,  to  choose 
the  fittest  man,  under  penalties ;  to  choose,  not  the  fittest  of 
the  four  or  the  three  men  that  were  in  Parliament,  but  the 
fittest  from  the  whole  Twenty-seven  Millions  that  he  could 
hear  of, — at  his  peril.  Nothing  but  good  from  this.  From 
extension  of  the  suffrage,  some  think,  you  might  get  quite 
other  than  good.  From  extension  of  the  suffrage,  till  it  be- 
came a  universal  counting  of  heads,  one  sees  not  in  the  least 
what  wisdom  could  be  extracted.  A  Parliament  of  the  Paris 
pattern,  such  as  we  see  just  now,  might  be  extracted  :  and 
from  that  ?  Solution  into  universal  slush  ;  drownage  of  all  in- 
terests divine  and  human,  in  a  Noah's-Deluge  of  Parliament- 
ary eloquence, — such  as  we  hope  our  sins,  heavy  and  manifold 
though  they  are,  have  not  yet  quite  deserved  ! 


Who,  then,  is  to  be  the  Reforming  Statesman,  and  begin 
the  noble  work  for  us  ?  He  is  the  preliminary  ;  one  such  ; 
with  him  we  may  prosecute  the  enterprise  to  length  after 


11G 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


length  ;  without  him  we  cannot  stir  in  it  at  all.  A  true  king, 
temporary-king,  that  dare  undertake  the  government  of  Brit- 
ain, on  condition  of  beginning  in  sacred  earnest  to  '  reform  ' 
it,  not  at  this  or  that  extremity,  but  at  the  heart  and  centre. 
That  will  expurgate  Downing  Street,  and  the  practical  Ad- 
ministration of  our  Affairs  ;  clear  out  its  accumulated  moun- 
tains of  pedantries  and  cobwebs  ;  bid  the  Pedants  and  the 
Dullards  depart,  bid  the  Gifted  and  the  Seeing  enter  and  in- 
habit. So  that  henceforth  there  be  Heavenly  light  there,  in- 
stead of  Stygian  dusk  ;  that  God's  vivifying  light  instead  of 
Satan's  deadening  and  killing  dusk,  may  radiate  therefrom, 
and  visit  with  healing  all  regions  of  this  British  Empire,  which 
now  writhes  through  every  limb  of  it,  in  dire  agony  as  if  of 
death  !  The  enterprise  is  great,  the  enterprise  may  be  called 
formidable  and  even  awful  ;  but  there  is  none  nobler  among 
the  sublunary  affairs  of  mankind  just  now.  Nay  tacitly  it  is 
the  enterprise  of  every  man  who  undertakes  to  be  British  Pre- 
mier in  these  times ; — and  I  cannot  esteem  him  an  enviable 
Premier  who,  because  the  engagement  is  tacit,  flatters  himself 
that  it  does  not  exist!  "Show  it  me  in  the  bond,"  he  says. 
Your  lordship,  it  actually  exists  :  and  I  think  you  will  see  it 
yet,  in  another  kind  of  '  bond  '  than  that  sheepskin  one  ! 

But  truly,  in  any  time,  what  a  strange  feeling,  enough  to 
alarm  a  very  big  Lordship,  this  :  that  he,  of  the  size  he  is, 
has  got  to  the  apex  of  English  affairs  !  Smallest  wrens,  we 
know,  by  training  and  the  aid  of  machinery,  are  capable  of 
many  things.  For  this  world  abounds  in  miraculous  combi- 
nations, far  transcending  anything  they  do  at  Drury  Lane  in 
the  melodramatic  way.  A  world  which,  as  solid  as  it  looks, 
is  made  all  of  aerial  and  even  of  spiritual  stuff;  permeated 
all  by  incalculable  sleeping  forces  and  electricities  ;  and  liable 
to  go  off,  at  any  time,  into  the  hugest  developments,  upon  a 
scratch  thoughtfully  or  thoughtlessly  given  on  the  right  point : 
— Nay,  for  every  one  of  us,  could  not  the  sputter  of  a  poor 
pistol-shot  shrivel  the  Immensities  together  like  a  burnt  scroll, 
and  make  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  pass  away  with  a  great 
noise  ?    Smallest  wrens,  and  canary-birds  of  some  dexterity, 


DOWNING  STREET. 


117 


can  be  trained  to  handle  lucifer-matclies  ;  and  have,  before 
now,  fired-off  whole  powder-magazines  and  parks  of  artillery. 
Perhaps  without  much  astonishment  to  the  canary-bird.  The 
canary-bird  can  hold  only  its  own  quantity  of  astonishment ; 
and  may  possibly  enough  retain  its  presence  of  mind,  were 
even  Doomsday  to  come.  It  is  on  this  principle  that  I  ex- 
plain to  myself  the  equanimity  of  some  men  and  Premiers 
whom  we  have  known. 

This  and  the  other  Premier  seems  to  take  it  with  perfect 
coolness.  And  yet,  I  say,  what  a  strange  feeling,  to  find  him- 
self Chief  Governor  of  England  ;  girding  on,  upon  his  moder- 
ately-sized new  soul,  the  old  battle-harness  of  an  Oliver  Crom- 
well, an  Edward  Longshanks,  a  William  Conqueror.  "  I,  then, 
am  the  Ablest  of  English  attainable  Men  ?  This  English 
People,  which  has  spread  itself  over  all  lands  and  seas,  and 
achieved  such  wTorks  in  the  ages, — which  has  done  America, 
India,  the  Lancashire  Cotton-trade,  Bromwicham  Iron-trade, 
Newton's  Principia,  Shakespeare's  Dramas,  and  the  British 
Constitution, — the  apex  of  all  its  intelligences  and  mighty 
instincts  and  dumb  longings  :  it  is  I?  William  Conqueror's 
big  gifts,  and  Edward's  and  Elizabeth's  ;  Oliver's  lightning 
soul,  noble  as  Sinai  and  the  thunders  of  the  Lord :  these 
are  mine,  I  begin  to  perceive, — to  a  certain  extent.  These 
heroisms  have  I, — though  rather  shy  of  exhibiting  them. 
These  ;  and  something  withal  of  the  huge  beaver-faculty  of 
our  Arkwrights,  Brindley's  ;  touches  too  of  the  phcenix-mel- 
odies  and  sunny  heroisms  of  our  Shakespeares,  of  our  Sing- 
ers, Sages  and  inspired  Thinkers  ;  all  this  is  in  me,  I  will 
hope, — though  rather  shy  of  exhibiting  it  on  common  occa- 
sions. The  Pattern  Englishman,  raised  by  solemn  acclama- 
tion upon  the  bucklers  of  the  English  People,  and  saluted 
with  universal  '  God  save  thee  ! ' — has  now  the  honour  to 
announce  himself.  After  fifteen-hundred  years  of  constitu- 
tional study  as  to  methods  of  raising  on  the  bucklers,  which 
is  the  operation  of  operations,  the  English  People,  surely 
pretty  well  skilled  in  it  by  this  time,  has  raised — the  remark- 
able individual  now  addressing  you.  The  best-combined 
sample  of  whatsoever  divine  qualities  are  in  this  big  People, 


118 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


the  consummate  flower  of  all  that  they  have  done  and  been, 
the  ultimate  product  of  the  Destinies,  and  English  man  of 
men,  arrived  at  last  in  the  fullness  of  time,  is — who  think 
you  ?  Ye  worlds,  the  Ithuriel  javelin  by  which,  with  all  these 
heroisms  and  accumulated  energies  old  and  new,  the  English 
People  means  to  smite  and  pierce,  is  this  poor  tailor's-bodkin, 
hardly  adequate  to  bore  an  eyelet-hole,  who  now  has  the 
honour  to  "  Good  Heavens,  if  it  were  not  that  men  gener- 
ally are  very  much  of  the  canary-bird,  here  are  reflections 
sufficient  to  annihilate  any  man,  almost  before  starting  ! 

But  to  us  also  it  ought  to  be  a  very  strange  reflection  ! 
This,  then,  is  the  length  we  have  brought  it  to,  with  our  con- 
stitutioning,  and  ballot-boxing,  and  incessant  talk  and.  effort 
in  every  kind  for  so  many  centuries  back  ;  this  ?  The  golden 
flower  of  our  grand  alchemical  projection,  which  has  set  the 
world  in  astonishment  so  long,  and  been  the  envy  of  sur- 
rounding nations,  is — what  we  here  see.  To  be  governed  by 
his  Lordship,  and  guided  through  the  undiscovered  paths  of 
Time  by  this  respectable  degree  of  human  faculty.  With  our 
utmost  soul's  travail  we  could  discover,  by  the  sublimest 
methods  eulogised  by  all  the  world,  no  abler  Englishman  than 
this?— 

Keally  it  should  make  us  pause  upon  the  said  sublime 
methods,  and  ask  ourselves  very  seriously,  whether,  notwith- 
standing the  eulogy  of  all  the  world,  they  can  be  other  than 
extremely  astonishing  methods,  that  require  revisal  and  re- 
consideration very  much  indeed  !  For  the  kind  of  '  man '  we 
get  to  govern  us,  all  conclusions  whatsoever  centre  there,  and 
likewise  all  manner  of  issues  flow  infallibly  therefrom.  '  Ask 
well,  who  is  your  Chief  Governor,'  says  one  :  '  for  around  him 
men  like  to  him  will  infallibly  gather,  and  by  degrees  ali  the 
world  will  be  made  in  his  image.'  'He  who  is  himself  a 
noble  man,  has  a  chance  to  know  the  nobleness  of  men ;  he 
who  is  not,  has  none.  And  as  for  the  poor  Public, — alas,  is 
not  the  kind  of  "  man  "  you  set  upon  it  the  liveliest  symbol  of 
its  and  your  veracity  and  victory  and  blessedness,  or  unveracity 
and  misery  and  cursedness ;  the  general  summation  and  practi- 
cal outcome  of  all  else  whatsoever  in  the  Public  and  in  you  ? 1 


DOWNING  STREET. 


119 


Time  was  when  an  incompetent  Governor  could  not  be 
permitted  among  men.  He  was,  and  had  to  be,  by  one 
method  or  the  other,  clutched  up  from  his  place  at  the  helm 
of  affairs,  and  hurled  down  into  the  hold,  perhaps  even  over- 
board, if  he  could  not  really  steer.  And  we  call  those  ages 
barbarous,  because  they  shuddered  to  see  a  Phantasm  at  the 
helm  of  their  affairs  ;  an  eyeless  Pilot  with  constitutional  spec- 
tacles, steering  by  the  ear-  mainly  ?  And  we  have  changed  all 
that :  no-government  is  now  the  best ;  and  a  tailor's  foreman, 
who  gives  no  trouble,  is  preferable  to  any  other  for  govern- 
ing ?  My  friends,  such  truly  is  the  current  idea  ;  but  you 
dreadfully  mistake  yourselves,  and  the  fact  is  not  such.  The 
fact,  now  beginning  to  disclose  itself  again  in  distressed 
Needlewomen,  famishing  Connaughts,  revolting  Colonies,  and 
a  general  rapid  advance  towards  Social  Ruin,  remains  really 
what  it  always  was,  and  will  so  remain  ! 

Men  have  very  much  forgotten  it  at  present ;  and  only 
here  a  man  and  there  a  man  begins  again  to  bethink  himself 
of  it :  but  all  men  will  gradually  get  reminded  of  it,  perhaps 
terribly  to  their  cost ;  and  the  sooner  they  all  lay  it  to  heart 
again,  I  think  it  will  be  the  better.  For  in  spite  of  our  ob- 
livion of  it,  the  thing  remains  forever  true  ;  nor  is  there  any 
Constitution  or  body  of  Constitutions,  were  they  clothed  with 
never  such  venerabilities  and  general  acceptabilities,  that 
avails  to  deliver  a  Nation  from  the  consequences  of  forgetting 
it.  Nature,  I  assure  you,  does  forevermore  remember  it ;  and 
a  hundred  British  Constitutions  are  but  as  a  hundred  cobwebs 
between  her  and  the  penalty  she  levies  for  forgetting  it.  Tell 
me  what  kind  of  man  governs  a  People,  you  tell  me,  with 
much  exactness,  what  the  net  sum-total  of  social  worth  in  that 
People  has  for  some  time  been.  Whether  they  have  loved  the 
phylacteries  or  the  eternal  noblenesses  ;  whether  they  have 
been  struggling  heavenward  like  eagles,  brothers  of  the  radi- 
ances, or  groping  owl-like  with  horn-eyed  diligence,  catching- 
mice  and  balances  at  their  banker's, — poor  devils,  you  will 
see  it  all  in  that  one  fact.  A  fact  long  prepared  beforehand  ; 
which,  if  it  is  a  peaceably  received  one,  must  have  been  ac- 
quiesced in,  judged  to  be  '  best,'  by  the  poor  mousing  owls, 


120 


LATTER-BAT  PAMPHLETS. 


intent  only  to  have  a  large  balance  at  their  banker's  and  keep 
a  whole  skin. 

Such  sordid  populations,  which  were  long  blind  to  Heav- 
en's light,  are  getting  themselves  burnt-up  rapidly,  in  these 
days,  by  street-insurrections  and  Hellfire  ; — as  is  indeed  inevi- 
table, my  esteemed  M'Croudy  !  Light,  accept  the  blessed  light, 
if  you  will  have  it  when  Heaven  vouchsafes.  You  refuse  ?  You 
prefer  Delolme  on  the  British  Constitution,  the  Gospel  accord- 
ing to  M'Croudy,  and  a  good  balance  at  your  banker's  ?  Very 
well :  the  '  light '  is  more  and  more  withdrawn  ;  and  for  some 
time  you  have  a  general  dusk,  very  favourable  for  catching 
mice  ;  and  the  opulent  owlery  is  very  '  happy,'  and  well-off  at 
its  banker's  ; — and  furthermore,  by  due  sequence,  infallible  as 
the  foundations  of  the  Universe  and  Nature's  oldest  law,  the 
light  returns  on  you,  condensed,  this  time,  into  lightning, 
which  there  is  not  any  skin  whatever  too  thick  for  taking  in  ! 


No.  IV.  THE  NEW  DOWNING  STEEET. 

[15th  April  1850.] 

In  looking  at  this  wreck  of  Governments  in  all  European 
countries,  there  is  one  consideration  that  suggests  itself,  sadly 
elucidative  of  our  modern  epoch.  These  Governments,  we 
may  be  well  assured,  have  gone  to  anarchy  for  this  one  rea- 
son inclusive  of  every  other  whatsoever,  That  they  were  not 
wise  enough  ;  that  the  spiritual  talent  embarked  in  them,  the 
virtue,  heroism,  intellect,  or  by  whatever  other  synonyms  wa 
designate  it,  was  not  adequate, — probably  had  long  been  in- 
adequate, and  so  in  its  dim  helplessness  had  suffered,  or  per- 
haps invited  falsity  to  introduce  itself  ;  had  suffered  injustices, 
and  solecisms,  and  contradictions  of  the  Divine  Fact,  to  ac- 
cumulate in  more  than  tolerable  measure  ;  whereupon  said 
Governments  were  overset,  and  declared  before  all  creatures 
to  be  too  false. 

This  is  a  reflection  sad  but  important  to  the  modern  Gov- 
ernments now  fallen  anarchic,  That  they  had  not  spiritual 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


121 


talent  enough.  And  if  this  is  so,  then  surely  the  question,  How 
these  Governments  came  to  sink  for  want  of  intellect  ?  is  a 
rather  interesting  one.  Intellect,  in  some  measure,  is  born 
into  every  Century ;  and  the  Nineteenth  flatters  itself  that  it 
is  rather  distinguished  that  way  !  What  had  become  of  this 
celebrated  Nineteenth  Century's  intellect  ?  Surely  some  of  it 
existed,  and  was  '  developed  '  withal  ; — nay  in  the  '  unde- 
veloped,' unconscious,  or  inarticulate  state,  it  is  not  dead  ; 
but  alive  and  at  work,  if  mutely  not  less  beneficently,  some 
think  even  more  so  !  And  yet  Governments,  it  would  appear, 
could  by  no  means  get  enough  of  it ;  almost  none  of  it  came 
their  way  :  what  had  become  of  it  ?  Truly  there  must  be 
something  very  questionable,  either  in  the  intellect  of  this 
celebrated  Century,  or  in  the  methods  Governments  now 
have  of  supplying  their  wants  from  the  same.  One  or  other 
of  two  grand  fundamental  short-comings,  in  regard  to  intel- 
lect or  human  enlightenment,  are  very  visible  in  this  enlight- 
ened Century  of  ours  ;  for  it  has  now  become  the  most  anar- 
chic of  Centuries  ;  that  is  to  say,  has  fallen  practically  into 
such  Egyptian  darkness  that  it  cannot  grope  its  way  at  all ! 

Nay  I  rather  think  both  of  these  shortcomings,  fatal  deficits 
both,  are  chargeable  upon  us ;  and  it  is  the  joint  harvest  of 
both  that  we  are  now  reaping,  with  such  havoc  to  our  affairs. 
I  rather  guess,  the  intellect  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  so  full 
of  miracle  to  Heavy  side  and  others,  is  itself  a  mechanical  or 
beaver  intellect  rather  than  a  high  or  eminently  human  one. 
A  dim  and  mean  though  authentic  kind  of  intellect,  this  ;  ven- 
erable only  in  defect  of  better.  This  kind  will  avail  but  little 
in  the  higher  enterprises  of  human  intellect,  especially  in  that 
highest  enterprise  of  guiding  men  Heavenward,  which,  after 
all,  is  the  one  real  '  governing '  of  them  on  this  God's-Earth  : 
— an  enterprise  not  to  be  achieved  by  beaver  intellect,  but  by 
other  higher  and  highest  kinds.  This  is  deficit  first.  Aud 
then  secondly,  Governments  have,  really  to  a  fatal  and  extra- 
ordinary extent,  neglected  in  late  ages  to  supply  themselves 
with  what  intellect  was  going  ;  having,  as  was  too  natural  in 
the  dim  time,  taken  up  a  notion  that  human  intellect,  or  even 
beaver  intellect,  was  not  necessary  to  them  at  all,  but  that  a 


122 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


little  of  the  vulpine  sort  (if  attainable),  supported  by  routine, 
redtape  traditions,  and  tolerable  parliamentary  eloquence  on 
occasion,  would  very  well  suffice.  A  most  false  and  impious 
notion  ;  leading  to  fatal  lethargy  on  the  part  of  Governments, 
while  Nature  and  Fact  were  preparing  strange  phenomena  in 
contradiction  to  it. 

These  are  two  very  fatal  deficits  ; — the  remedy  of  either  of 
which  would  be  the  remedy  of  both,  could  we  but  find  it !  For 
indeed  they  are  vitally  connected  :  one  of  them  is  sure  to  pro- 
duce the  other  ;  and  both  once  in  action  together,  the  advent 
of  darkness,  certain  enough  to  issue  in  anarchy  by  and  by, 
goes  on  with  frightful  acceleration.  If  Governments  neglect  to 
invite  what  noble  intellect  there  is,  then  too  surely  all  intellect, 
not  omnipotent  to  resist  bad  influences,  will  tend  to  become 
beaverish  ignoble  intellect ;  and  quitting  high  aims,  which 
seem  shut-up  from  it,  will  help  itself  forward  in  the  way  of 
making  money  and  suchlike  ;  or  will  even  sink  to  be  sham  in- 
tellect ;  helping  itself  by  methods  which  are  not  only  beaver- 
ish but  vulpine,  and  so  '  ignoble '  as  not  to  have  common  hon- 
esty. The  Government,  taking  no  thought  to  choose  intellect 
for  itself,  will  gradually  find  that  tjiere  is  less  and  less  of  a 
good  quality  to  choose  from  :  thus,  as  in  all  impieties  it  does, 
bad  grows  worse  at  a  frightful  double  rate  of  progression  ;  and 
your  impiety  is  twice  cursed.  If  you  are  impious  enough  to 
tolerate  darkness,  you  will  get  ever  more  darkness  to  tolerate  ; 
and  at  that  inevitable  stage  of  the  account  (inevitable  in  all 
such  accounts)  when  actual  light  or  else  destruction  is  the  al- 
ternative, you  will  call  to  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  for  light, 
and  none  will  come  ! 

Certainly  this  evil,  for  one,  has  not  '  wrought  its  own  cure  ;  * 
but  has  wrought  precisely  the  reverse,  and  has  been  hourly 
eating  away  what  possibilities  of  cure  there  were.  And  so,  I 
fear,  in  spite  of  rumours  to  the  contrary,  it  always  is  with 
evils,  with  solecisms  against  Nature,  and  contradictions  to  the 
divine  fact  of  things  :  not  an  evil  of  them  has  ever  wrought  its 
own  cure  in  my  experience  ; — but  has  continually  grown  worse 
and  wider  and  uglier,  till  some  good  (generally  a  good  man) 
not  able  to  endure  the  abomination  longer,  rose  upon  it  and 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


123 


cured  or  else  extinguished  it.  Evil  Governments,  divested  of 
God's  light  because  they  have  loved  darkness  rather,  are  not 
likelier  than  other  evils  to  work  their  own  cure  out  of  that  bad 
plight. 

It  is  urgent  upon  all  Governments  to  pause  in  this  fatal 
course  ;  persisted  in,  the  goal  is  fearfully  evident ;  every 
hour's  persistence  in  it  is  making  return  more  difficult.  In- 
tellect exists  in  all  countries ;  and  the  function  appointed  it  by 
Heaven, — Governments  had  better  not  attempt  to  contradict 
that,  for  they  cannot !  Intellect  has  to  govern  in  this  world  ; 
and  will  do  it,  if  not  in  alliance  with  so-called  '  Govern- 
ments '  of  redtape  and  routine,  then  in  divine  hostility  to  such, 
and  sometimes  alas  in  diabolic  hostility  to  such  ;  and  in  the 
end,  as  sure  as  Heaven  is  higher  than  Downing  Street,  and 
the  Laws  of  Nature  are  tougher  than  redtape,  with  entire  vic- 
tory over  them  and  entire  ruin  to  them.  If  there  is  one  think- 
ing man  among  the  Politicians  of  England,  I  consider  these 
things  extremely  well  worth  his  attention  just  now. 

Who  are  available  to  your  Offices  in  Downing  Street  ?  All 
the  gifted  souls,  of  every  rank,  who  are  born  to  you  in  this 
generation.  These  are  appointed,  by  the  true  eternal  '  divine 
right '  which  will  never  become  obsolete,  to  be  your  governors 
and  administrators ;  and  precisely  as  you  employ  them,  or 
neglect  to  employ  them,  will  your  State  be  favoured  of  Heaven 
or  disfavoured.  This  noble  young  soul,  you  can  have  him  on 
either  of  two  conditions ;  and  on  one  of  them,  since  he  is  here 
in  the  world,  you  must  have  him.  As  your  ally  and  coadjutor  ; 
or  failing  that,  as  your  natural  enemy  :  which  shall  it  be  ?  I 
consider  that  every  Government  convicts  itself  of  infatuation 
and  futility,  or  absolves  and  justifies  itself  before  God  and 
man,  according  as  it  answers  this  question.  With  all  sub- 
lunary entities,  this  is  the  question  of  questions.  What  talent 
is  born  to  you  ?  How  do  you  employ  that  ?  The  crop  of 
spiritual  talent  that  is  born  to  you,  of  human  nobleness  and 
intellect  and  heroic  faculty,  this  is  infinitely  more  important 
than  your  crops  of  cotton  or  corn,  or  wine  or  herrings  or 
whale-oil,  which  the  Newspapers  record  with  such  anxiety 


124 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


every  season.  This  is  not  quite  counted  by  seasons,  there- 
fore the  Newspapers  are  silent :  but  by  generations  and  cen- 
turies, I  assure  you  it  becomes  amazingly  sensible  ;  and  sur- 
passes, as  Heaven  does  Earth,  all  the  corn  and  wine,  and 
whale-oil  and  California  bullion,  or  any  other  crop  you  grow. 
If  that  crop  cease,  the  other  crops — please  to  take  them  also, 
if  you  are  anxious  about  them.  That  once  ceasing,  we  may 
shut  shop  ;  for  no  other  crop  whatever  will  stay  with  us,  nor 
is  worth  having  if  it  would. 

To  promote  men  of  talent,  to  search  and  sift  the  whole 
society  in  every  class  for  men  of  talent,  and  joyfully  promote 
them,  has  not  always  been  found  impossible.  In  many  forms 
of  polity  they  have  done  it,  and  still  do  it,  to  a  certain  degree. 
The  degree  to  which  they  succeed  in  doing  it  marks,  as  I  have 
said,  with  very  great  accuracy  the  degree  of  divine  and  human 
worth  that  is  in  them,  the  degree  of  success  or  real  ultimate 
victory  they  can  expect  to  have  in  this  world. — Think,  for  ex- 
ample, of  the  old  Catholic  Church,  in  its  merely  terrestrial  re- 
lations to  the  State  ;  and  see  if  your  reflections,  and  contrasts 
with  what  now  is,  are  of  an  exulting  character.  Progress  of 
the  species  has  gone  on  as  with  seven-league  boots,  and  in 
various  directions  has  shot  ahead  amazingly,  with  three  cheers 
from  all  the  world  ;  but  in  this  direction,  the  most  vital  and 
indispensable,  it  has  lagged  terribly,  and  has  even  moved 
backward,  till  now  it  is  quite  gone  out  of  sight  in  clouds  of 
cotton-fuzz  and  railway-scrip,  and  has  fallen  fairly  over  the 
horizon  to  rearward ! 

In  those  most  benighted  Feudal  societies,  full  of  mere 
tyrannous  steel  Barons,  and  totally  destitute  of  Tenpound 
Franchises  and  Ballot-boxes,  there  did  nevertheless  authenti- 
cally preach  itself  everywhere  this  grandest  of  gospels,  with- 
out which  no  other  gospel  can  avail  us  much,  to  all  souls  of 
men,  "  Awake,  ye  noble  souls  ;  here  is  a  noble  career  for 
you  !  "  I  say,  everywhere  a  road  towards  promotion,  for  hu- 
man nobleness,  lay  wide  open  to  all  men.  The  pious  soul,— 
which,  if  you  reflect,  will  mean  the  ingenuous  and  ingen- 
ious, the  gifted,  intelligent  and  nobly-aspiring  soul, — such  a 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


125 


soul,  in  whatever  rank  of  life  it  were  born,  had  one  path  in- 
viting- it ;  a  generous  career,  whereon,  by  human  worth  and 
valour,  all  earthly  heights  and  Heaven  itself  were  attainable. 
In  the  lowest  stratum  of  social  thraldom,  nowhere  was  the 
noble  soul  doomed  quite  to  choke,  and  die  ignobly.  The 
Church,  poor  old  benighted  creature,  had  at  least  taken  care 
of  that :  the  noble  aspiring  soul,  not  doomed  to  choke  ignobly 
in  its  penuries,  could  at  least  run  into  the  neighbouring  Con- 
vent, and  there  take  refuge.  Education  awaited  it  there  ; 
strict  training  not  only  to  whatever  useful  knowledge  could 
be  had  from  writing  and  reading,  but  to  obedience,  to  pious 
reverence,  self-restraint,  annihilation  of  self, — really  to  human 
nobleness  in  many  most  essential  respects.  No  questions  asked 
about  your  birth,  genealogy,  quantity  of  money-capital  or  the 
like  ;  the  one  question  was,  "  Is  there  some  human  nobleness 
in  you,  or  is  there  not  ?  "  The  poor  neatherd's  son,  if  he  were 
a  Noble  of  Nature,  might  rise  to  Priesthood,  to  High-priest- 
hood, to  the  top  of  this  world, — and  best  of  all,  he  had  still 
high  Heaven  lying  high  enough  above  him,  to  keep  his  head 
steady,  on  whatever  height  or  in  whatever  depth  his  way 
might  lie  ! 

A  thrice-glorious  arrangement,  when  I  reflect  on  it  ;  most 
salutary  to  all  high  and  low  interests  ;  a  truly  human  arrange- 
ment. You  made  the  born  noble  yours,  welcoming  him  as 
what  he  was,  the  Sent  of  Heaven :  you  did  not  force  him 
either  to  die  or  become  your  enemy  ;  idly  neglecting  or  sup- 
pressing him  as  what  he  was  not,  a  thing  of  no  worth.  You 
accepted  the  blessed  light ;  and  in  the  shape  of  infernal  light- 
ning it  needed  not  to  visit  you.  How,  like  an  immense  mine- 
shaft  through  the  dim  oppressed  strata  of  society,  this  Insti- 
tution of  the  Priesthood  ran  ;  opening,  from  the  lowest  depths 
towards  all  heights  and  towards  Heaven  itself,  a  free  road  of 
egress  and  emergence  towards  virtuous  nobleness,  heroism  and 
well-doing,  for  every  born  man.  This  we  may  call  the  living 
lungs  and  blood-circulation  of  those  old  Feudalisms.  When  I 
think  of  that  immeasurable  all-pervading  lungs  ;  present  in 
every  corner  of  human  society,  every  meanest  hut  a  cell  of  said 
lungs  ;  inviting  whatsoever  noble  pious  soul  was  born  there 


126 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


to  the  path  that  was  noble  for  him ;  and  leading*  thereby 
sometimes,  if  he  were  worthy,  to  be  the  Papa  of  Christendom, 
and  Commander  of  all  Kings, — I  perceive  how  the  old  Chris- 
tian society  continued  healthy,  vital,  and  was  strong  and  heroic. 
When  I  contrast  this  with  the  noble  aims  now  held  out  to 
noble  souls  born  in  remote  huts,  or  beyond  the  verge  of  Pal- 
ace-Yard ;  and  think  of  what  your  Lordship  has  done  in  the 
way  of  making  priests  and  papas, — I  see  a  society  without 
lungs,  fast  wheezing  itself  to  death,  in  horrid  convulsions  ; 
and  deserving  to  die. 

Over  Europe  generally  in  these  years,  I  consider  that  the 
State  has  died,  has  fairly  coughed  its  last  in  street  musketry, 
and  fallen  down  dead,  incapable  of  any  but  galvanic  life  hence- 
forth,— owing  to  this  same  fatal  want  of  lungs,  which  includes 
all  other  wants  for  a  State.  And  furthermore  that  it  will 
never  come  alive  again,  till  it  contrive  to  get  such  indispen- 
sable vital  apparatus  ;  the  outlook  toward  which  consumma- 
tion is  very  distant  in  most  communities  of  Europe.  If  you 
let  it  come  to  death  or  suspended-animation  in  States,  the  case 
is  very  bad  !  Vain  to  call-in  universal-suffrage  parliaments  at 
that  stage  :  the  universal-suffrage  parliaments  cannot  give  you 
any  breath  of  life,  cannot  find  any  wisdom  for  you  ;  by  long 
impiety,  you  have  let  the  supply  of  noble  human  wisdom  die 
out ;  and  the  wisdom  that  now  courts  your  universal-suffrages 
is  beggarly  human  attorneyism  or  sham-wisdom,  which  is  not 
an  insight  into  the  Laws  of  God's  Universe,  but  into  the  laws 
of  hungry  Egoism  and  the  Devil's  Chicane,  and  can  in  the 
end  profit  no  community  or  man. 

No  ;  the  kind  of  heroes  that  come  mounted  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  the  universal-suffrage,  and  instal  themselves  as  Prime 
Ministers  and  healing  Statesmen  by  force  of  able  editorship, 
do  not  bid  very  fair  to  bring  Nations  back  to  the  ways  of  God. 
Eloquent  high-lacquered  pinchbeck  specimens  these,  expert  in 
the  arts  of  Belial  mainly  ; — fitter  to  be  markers  nt  some  ex- 
ceedingly expensive  billiard-table  than  sacred  chief-priests  of 
men  !  1  Greeks  of  the  Lower  Empire  ; '  with  a  varnish  of  par- 
liamentary rhetoric  ;  and,  I  suppose,  this  other  great  gift, 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


127 


toughness  of  character, — proof  that  they  have  persevered  in 
their  Master's  service.  Poor  wretches,  their  industry  is  mob- 
worship,  place-worship,  parliamentary  intrigue,  and  the  mul- 
tiplex art  of  tongue-fence  :  flung  into  that  bad  element,  there 
they  swim  for  decades  long,  throttling  and  wrestling  one  an- 
other according  to  their  strength, — and  the  toughest  or  luck- 
iest gets  to  land,  and  becomes  Premier.  A  more  entirely 
unbeautiful  class  of  Premiers  was  never  raked  out  of  the  ooze, 
and  set  on  high  places,  by  any  ingenuity  of  man.  Dame  Du- 
barry's  petticoat  was  a  better  seine-net  for  fishing  out  Premiers 
than  that.  Let  all  Nations  whom  necessity  is  driving  towards 
that  method,  take  warning  in  time  ! 

Alas,  there  is,  in  a  manner,  but  one  Nation  that  can  still 
take  warning  !  In  England  alone  of  European  Countries  the 
State  yet  survives  ;  and  might  help  itself  by  better  methods. 
In  England  heroic  wisdom  is  not  yet  dead,  and  quite  replaced 
by  attorneyism  :  the  honest  beaver  faculty  yet  abounds  with 
us,  the  heroic  manful  faculty  shows  itself  also  to  the  observant 
eye,  not  dead  but  dangerously  sleeping.  I  said  there  were 
many  kings  in  England  :  if  these  can  yet  be  rallied  into  stren- 
uous activit}r,  and  set  to  govern  England  in  Downing  Street 
and  elsewhere,  which  their  function  always  is, — then  England 
can  be  saved  from  anarchies  and^  universal-suffrages ;  and 
that  Apotheosis  of  Attorneyism,  blackest  of  terrestrial  curses, 
may  be  spared  us.  If  these  cannot,  the  other  issue,  in  such 
forms  as  may  be  appropriate  to  us,  is  inevitable.  What  escape 
is  there  ?  England  must  conform  to  the  eternal  laws  of  life, 
or  England  too  must  die  ! 

England  with  the  largest  mass  of  real  living  interests  ever 
intrusted  to  a  Nation  ;  and  with  a  mass  of  extinct  imaginary 
and  quite  dead  interests  piled  upon  it  to  the  very  Heavens, 
and  encumbering  it  from  shore  to  shore, — does  reel  and  stag- 
ger ominously  in  these  years ;  urged  by  the  Divine  Silences 
and  the  Eternal  Laws  to  take  practical  hold  of  its  living  inter- 
ests and  manage  them  :  and  clutching  blindly  into  its  vener- 
able extinct  and  imaginary  interests,  as  if  that  were  still  the 
way  to  do  it.  England  must  contrive  to  manage  its  living  in- 
terests, and  quit  its  dead  ones  and  their  methods,  or  else  de- 


128 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


part  from  its  place  in  this  world.  Surely  England  is  called  as 
no  Nation  ever  was,  to  summon-out  its  kings,  and  set  them  to 
that  high  work  ! — Huge  inorganic  England,  nigh  choked  un- 
der the  exuviae  of  a  thousand  years,  and  blindly  sprawling 
amid  chartisms,  ballot-boxes,  prevenient  graces,  and  bishops' 
nightmares,  must,  as  the  preliminary  and  commencement  of 
organisation,  learn  to  breathe  again, — get  'lungs 'for  herself 
again,  as  we  defined  it.  That  is  imperative  upon  her  :  she  too 
will  die,  otherwise,  and  cough  her  last  upon  the  street  some 
day  ; — how  can  she  continue  living?  To  enfranchise  whatso- 
ever of  Wisdom  is  born  in  England,  and  set  that  to  the  sacred 
task  of  coercing  and  amending  what  of  Folly  is  born  in  Eng- 
land :  Heaven's  blessing  is  purchasable  by  that ;  by  not  that, 
only  Heaven's  curse  is  purchasable.  The  reform  contemplated, 
my  liberal  friends  perceive,  is  a  truly  radical  one  ;  no  ballot- 
box  ever  went  so  deep  into  the  roots  :  a  radical,  most  painful, 
slow  and  difficult,  but  most  indispensable  reform  of  reforms ! 

How  short  and  feeble  an  approximation  to  these  high  ul- 
terior results,  the  best  Reform  of  Downing  Street,  presided 
over  by  the  fittest  Statesman  one  can  imagine  to  exist  at  pres- 
ent, would  be,  is  too  apparent  to  me.  A  long  time  yet  till 
we  get  our  living  interests  put  under  due  administration,  till 
we  get  our  dead  interests  handsomely  dismissed.  A  long 
time  yet  till,  by  extensive  change  of  habit  and  ways  of  think- 
ing and  acting,  we  get  living  'lungs'  for  ourselves!  Never- 
theless, by  Reform  of  Downing  Street,  we  do  begin  to 
breathe ;  we  do  start  in  the  way  towards  that  and  all  high 
results.  Nor  is  there  visible  to  me  any  other  way.  Blessed 
enough  were  the  way  once  entered  on  ;  could  we,  in  our  evil 
days,  but  see  the  noble  enterprise  begun,  and  fairly  in  prog- 
ress ! 

What  the  '  New  Downing  Street '  can  grow  to,  and  will  and 
must  if  England  is  to  have  a  Downing  Street  beyond  a  few 
years  longer,  it  is  far  from  me,  in  my  remote  watch-tower,  to 
say  with  precision.  A  Downing  Street  inhabited  by  the  gifted 
of  the  intellects  of  England  ;  directing  all  its  energies  upon 
the  real  and  living  interests  of  England,  and  silently  but  in- 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


129 


cessantly,  in  the  alembics  of  the  place,  burning-up  the  ex- 
tinct imaginary  interests  of  England,  that  we  may  see  God's 
sky  a  little  plainer  overhead,  and  have  all  of  us  a  great  acces- 
sion of  '  heroic  wisdom '  to  dispose  of :  such  a  Downing 
Street — to  draw  the  plan  of  it,  will  require  architects  ;  many 
successive  architects  and  builders  will  be  needed  there.  Let 
not  editors,  and  remote  unprofessional  persons,  interfere  too 
much  !  —  Change  in  the  present  edifice,  however,  radical 
change,  all  men  can  discern  to  be  inevitable  ;  and  even,  if 
there  shall  not  worse  swiftly  follow,  to  be  imminent.  Out- 
lines of  the  future  edifice  paint  themselves  against  the  sky  (to 
men  that  still  have  a  sky,  and  are  above  the  miserable  London 
fogs  of  the  hour)  ;  noble  elements  of  new  State  Architecture, 
foreshadows  of  a  New  Downing  Street  for  the  New  Era  that 
is  come.  These  with  pious  hope  all  men  can  see  ;  and  it  is 
good  that  all  men,  with  whatever  faculty  they  have,  were  ear- 
nestly looking  thitherward  ; — trying  to  get  above  the  fogs,  that 
they  might  look  thitherward  ! 


Among  practical  men  the  idea  prevails  that  Government 
can  do  nothing  but  'keep  the  peace.'  They  say  all  higher 
tasks  are  unsafe  for  it,  impossible  for  it, — and  in  fine  not  nec- 
essary for  it  or  for  us.  On  this  footing  a  very  feeble  Down- 
ing Street  might  serve  the  turn  ! — I  am  well  aware  that  Gov- 
ernment, for  a  long  time  past,  has  taken  in  hand  no  other 
public  task,  and  has  professed  to  have  no  other,  but  that  of 
keeping  the  peace.  This  public  task,  and  the  private  one 
of  ascertaining  whether  Dick  or  Jack  was  to  do  it,  have 
amply  filled  the  capabilities  of  Government  for  several  gen- 
erations now.  Hard  tasks  both,  it  would  appear.  In  accom- 
plishing the  first,  for  example,  have  not  heavenborn  Chan- 
cellors of  the  Exchequer  had  to  shear  us  very  bare  ;  and  to 
leave  an  overplus  of  Debt,  or  of  fleeces  shorn  before  they  are 
grown,  justly  esteemed  among  the  wonders  of  the  world? 
Not  a  first-rate  keeping  of  the  peace,  this,  we  begin  to  sur- 
mise !  At  least  it  seems  strange  to  us. 
9 


130 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


For  we,  and  the  overwhelming  majority  of  all  our  acquaint- 
ances, in  this  Parish  and  Nation  and  the  adjacent  Parishes  and 
Nations,  are  profoundly  conscious  to  ourselves  of  being  by 
nature  peaceable  persons  ;  following  our  necessary  industries  ; 
without  wish,  interest  or  faintest  intention  to  cut  the  skin  of 
any  mortal,  to  break  feloniously  into  his  industrial  premises, 
or  do  any  injustice  to  him  at  all.  Because  indeed,  indepen- 
dent of  Government,  there  is  a  thing  called  conscience,  and 
we  dare  not.  So  that  it  cannot  but  appear  to  us,  'the 
peace,'  under  dextrous  management,  might  be  very  much  more 
easily  kept,  your  Lordship  ;  nay,  we  almost  think,  if  well  let 
alone,  it  would  in  a  measure  keep  itself  among  such  a  set  of 
persons  !  And  how  it  happens  that  when  a  poor  hardworking 
creature  of  us  has  laboriously  earned  sixpence,  the  Govern- 
ment comes  in,  and  (as  some  compute)  says,  "I  will  thank  you 
for  threepence  of  that,  as  per  account,  for  getting  you  peace 
to  spend  the  other  threepence,"  our  amazement  begins  to  be 
considerable, — and  I  think  results  will  follow  from  it  by  and 
by.  Not  the  most  dextrous  keeping  of  the  peace,  your  Lord- 
ship, unless  it  be  more  difficult  to  do  than  appears  ! 

Our  domestic  peace,  we  cannot  but  perceive,  as  good  as 
keeps  itself.  Here  and  there  a  select  Equitable  Person,  ap- 
pointed by  the  Public  for  that  end,  clad  in  ermine,  and  backed 
by  certain  companies  of  blue  Police,  is  amply  adequate,  with- 
out immoderate  outlay  in  money  or  otherwise,  to  keep-down 
the  few  exceptional  individuals  of  the  scoundrel  kind  ;  who, 
we  observe,  by  the  nature  of  them,  are  always  weak  and  in- 
considerable. And  as  to  foreign  peace,  really  all  Europe, 
now  especially  with  so  many  railroads,  public  journals,  printed 
books,  penny-post,  bills  of  exchange,  and  continual  inter- 
course and  mutual  dependence,  is  more  and  more  becoming 
(so  to  speak)  one  Parish  ;  the  Parishioners  of  which  being,  as 
we  ourselves  are,  in  immense  majority  peaceable  hardworking 
people,  could,  if  they  were  moderately  well  guided,  have  al- 
most no  disposition  to  quarrel.  Their  economic  interests  are 
one,  ' To  buy  in  the  cheapest  market,  and  sell  in  the  dearest 
their  faith,  any  religious  faith  they  have,  is  one,  '  To  annihi- 
late shams— by  all  methods,  street-barricades  included.'  Why 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


131 


should  they  quarrel?  The  Czar  of  Russia,  in  the  Eastern 
parts  of  the  Parish,  may  have  other  notions  ;  but  he  knows  too 
well  he  must  keep  them  to  himself.  He,  if  he  meddled  with 
the  Western  parts,  and  attempted  anywhere  to  crush  or  dis- 
turb that  sacred  Democratic  Faith  of  theirs,  is  aware  there 
would  rise  from  a  hundred  and  fifty  million  human  throats 
ouch  a  Hymn  of  the  Marseillese  as  was  never  heard  before  ;  and 
England,  France,  Germany,  Poland,  Hungary,  and  the  Nine 
Kingdoms,  hurling  themselves  upon  him  in  never-imagined 
fire  of  vengeance,  would  swiftly  reduce  his  Russia  and  him  to 
a  strange  situation !  Wherefore  he  forbears, — and  being  a 
person  of  some  sense,  will  long  forbear.  In  spite  of  editorial 
prophecy,  the  Czar  of  Russia  does  not  disturb  our  night's 
rest.  And  with  the  other  parts  of  the  Parish  our  dreams  and 
our  thoughts  are  of  anything  but  of  fighting,  or  of  the  smallest 
need  to  fight. 

For  keeping  of  the  peace,  a  thing  highly  desirable  to  us, 
we  strive  to  be  grateful  to  your  Lordship.  Intelligible  to  us, 
also,  your  Lordship's  reluctance  to  get  out  of  the  old  routine. 
But  we  beg  to  say  farther,  that  peace  by  itself  has  no  feet  to 
stand  upon,  and  would  not  suit  us  even  if  it  had.  Keeping 
of  the  peace  is  the  function  of  a  policeman,  and  but  a  small 
fraction  of  that  of  any  Government,  King  or  Chief  of  men. 
Are  not  all  men  bound,  and  the  Chief  of  men  in  the  name  of 
all,  to  do  properly  this :  To  see,  so  far  as  human  effort  under 
pain  of  eternal  reprobation  can,  God's  Kingdom  incessantly 
advancing  here  below,  and  His  will  done  on  Earth  as  it  is  in 
Heaven  ?  On  Sundays  your  Lordship  knows  this  well ;  forget 
it  not  on  weekdays.  I  assure  you  it  is  for  evermore  a  fact. 
That  ia  the  immense  divine  and  never-ending  task  which  is 
laid  on  every  man,  and  with  unspeakable  increase  of  empha- 
sis on  every  Government  or  Commonwealth  of  men.  Your 
Lordship,  that  is  the  basis  upon  which  peace  and  all  else  de- 
pends !  That  basis  once  well  lost,  there  is  no  peace  capable 
of  being  kept, — the  only  peace  that  could  then  be  kept  is  that 
of  the  churchyard.  Your  Lordship  may  depend  on  it,  what- 
ever thing  takes  upon  it  the  name  of  Sovereign  or  Govern- 
ment in  an  English  Nation  such  as  this  will  have  to  get  out 


132 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


of  that  old  routine  ;  and  set  about  keeping  something  very 
different  from  the  peace,  in  these  days  ! 

Truly  it  is  high  time  that  same  beautiful  notion  of  No-Gov- 
ernment should  take  itself  awa}r.  The  world  is  daily  rushing 
towards  wreck,  while  that  lasts.  If  your  Government  is  to 
be  a  Constituted  Anarchy,  what  issue  can  it  have  ?  Our  one 
interest  in  such  Government  is,  that  it  would  be  kind  enough 
to  cease  and  go  its  ways,  before  the  inevitable  arrive.  The 
question,  Who  is  to  float  atop  nowhither  upon  the  popu- 
lar vortexes,  and  act  that  sorry  charge  lev,  '  carcass  of  the 
drowned  ass  upon  the  mud-deluge  '  ?  is  by  no  means  an  im- 
portant one  for  almost  anybody, — hardly  even  for  the  drowned 
ass  himself.  Such  drowned  ass  ought  to  ask  himself,  If  the 
function  is  a  sublime  one  ?  For  him  too,  though  he  looks 
sublime  to  the  vulgar  and  floats  atop,  a  private  situation, 
down  out  of  sight  in  his  natural  ooze,  would  be  a  luckier 
one. 

Crabbe,  speaking  of  constitutional  philosophies,  faith  in  the 
ballot-box  and  suchlike,  has  this  indignant  passage  :  '  If  any 
voice  of  deliverance  or  resuscitation  reach  us,  in  this  our  low 
and  all-but  lost  estate,  sunk  almost  beyond  plummet  sound- 
ing in  the  mud  of  Lethe,  and  oblivious  of  all  noble  objects, — 
it  will  be  an  intimation  that  we  must  put  away  all  this  abom- 
inable nonsense,  and  understand,  once  more,  that  Constituted 
Anarchy,  with  however  many  ballot-boxes,  caucuses,  and  hust- 
ings-beerbarrels,  is  a  continual  offence  to  gods  and  men. 
That  to  be  governed  by  small  men  is  not  only  a  misfortune, 
but  it  is  a  curse  and  a  sin  ;  the  effect,  and  alas  the  cause  also, 
of  all  manner  of  curses  and  sins.  That  to  profess  subjection 
to  phantasms,  and  pretend  to  accept  guidance  from  fractional 
parts  of  tailors,  is  what  Smelfungus  in  his  rude  dialect  calls 
it,  "  a  damned  lie"  and  nothing  other.  A  lie  which,  by  long 
use  and  wont,  we  have  grown  accustomed  to,  and  do  not  the 
least  feel  to  be  a  lie,  having  spoken  and  done  it  continually 
everywhere  for  such  a  long  time  past ; — but  has  Nature 
grown  to  accept  it  as  a  veracity,  think  you,  my  friend  ?  Have 
the  .Parcso  fallen  asleep,  because  you  wanted  to  make  money 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


in  tlie  City  ?  Nature  at  all  moments  knows  well  that  it  is  a 
lie  ;  and  that,  like  all  lies,  it  is  cursed  and  damned  from  the 
beginning. 

'Even  so,  ye  indigent  millionaires,  and  miserable  bankrupt 
populations  rolling  in  gold, — whose  note-of-hand  will  go  to 
any  length  in  Threadneedle  Street,  and  to  whom  in  Heaven's 
Bank  the  stern  answer  is,  "  No  effects ! "  Bankrupt,  I  say  ; 
and  Californias  and  Eldorados  will  not  save  us.  And  every 
time  we  speak  such  lie,  or  do  it  or  look  it,  as  we  have  been 
incessantly  doing,  and  many  of  us  with  clear  consciousness, 
for  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  now,  Nature  marks  down 
the  exact  penalty  against  us.  "  Debtor  to  so  much  lying  : 
forfeiture  of  existing  stock  of  worth  to  such  extent ; — approach 
to  general  damnation  by  so  much."  Till  now,  as  we  look 
round  us  over  a  convulsed  anarchic  Europe,  and  at  home 
over  an  anarchy  not  yet  convulsed,  but  only  heaving  towards 
convulsion,  and  to  judge  by  the  Mosaic  sweating-establish- 
ments, cannibal  Connaughts  and  other  symptoms,  not  far 
from  convulsion  now,  we  seem  to  have  pretty  much  exhausted 
our  accumulated  stock  of  worth ;  and,  unless  money's  "worth'! 
and  bullion  at  the  Bank  will  save  us,  to  be  rubbing  very  close 
upon  that  ulterior  bourne  which  I  do  not  like  to  name 
again  ! 

c  On  behalf  of  nearly  twenty-seven  millions  of  my  fellow- 
countrymen,  sunk  deep  in  Lethean  sleep,  with  mere  owl- 
dreams  of  Political  Economy  and  mice-catching,  in  this  pacific 
thrice -infernal  slush-element  ;  and  also  of  certain  select  thou- 
sands, and  hundreds  and  units,  awakened  or  beginning  to 
awaken  from  it,  and  with  horror  in  their  hearts  perceiving 
where  they  are,  I  beg  to  protest,  and  in  the  name  of  God  to 
say,  with  poor  human  ink,  desirous  much  that  I  had  divine 
thunder  to  say  it  with,  Awake,  arise, — before  you  sink  to 
death  eternal !  Unnameable  destruction,  and  banishment  to 
Houndsditch  and  Gehenna,  lies  in  store  for  all  Nations  that, 
in  angry  perversity  or  brutal  torpor  and  owlish  blindness, 
neglect  the  eternal  message  of  the  gods,  and  vote  for  the 
AVorse  while  the  Better  is  there.  Like  owls  they  say,  "  Ba- 
rabbas  will  do  ;  any  orthodox  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews,  and 


134 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


peaceable  believer  in  M'Croudy  and  the  Faith  of  Leave-alone 
will  do  :  the  Eight  Honourable  Minimus  is  well  enough  ;  he 
shall  be  our  Maximus,  under  him  it  will  be  handy  to  catch 
mice,  and  Owldom  shall  continue  a  flourishing  empire." ' 

One  thing  is  undeniable,  and  must  be  continually  repeated 
till  it  get  to  be  understood  again  :  Of  all  constitutions,  forms 
of  government,  and  political  methods  among  men,  the  question 
to  be  asked  is  even  this,  What  kind  of  man  do  you  set  over  us? 
All  questions  are  answered  in  the  answer  to  this.  Another  thing 
is  worth  attending  to  :  No  people  or  populace,  with  never  such 
ballot-boxes,  can  select  such  man  for  you ;  only  the  man  of 
worth  can  recognise  worth  in  men  ; — to  the  commonplace  man 
of  no  or  of  little  worth,  you,  unless  you  wish  to  be  misled,  need 
not  apply  on  such  an  occasion.  Those  poor  Tenpound  Fran- 
chisers of  yours,  they  are  not  even  in  earnest ;  the  poor  sniff- 
ing sniggering  Honourable  Gentlemen  they  send  to  Parliament 
are  as  little  so.  Tenpound  Franchisers  full  of  mere  beer  and 
balderdash  ;  Honourable  Gentlemen  come  to  Parliament  as  to 
an  Almack's  series  of  evening  parties,  or  big  cockmain  (battle 
of  all  the  cocks)  very  amusing  to  witness  and  bet  upon  :  what 
can  or  could  men  in  that  predicament  ever  do  for  you  ?  Nay, 
if  they  were  in  life-and-death  earnest,  what  could  it  avail  you 
in  such  a  case  ?  I  tell  you,  a  million  blockheads  looking  au- 
thoritatively into  one  man  of  what  you  call  genius,  or  noble 
sense  will  make  nothing  but  nonsense  out  of  him  and  his  quali- 
ties, and  his  virtues  and  defects,  if  they  look  till  the  end  of 
time.  He  understands  them,  sees  what  they  are  ;  but  that 
they  should  understand  him,  and  see  with  rounded  outline 
what  his  limits  are, — this,  which  would  mean  that  they  are 
bigger  than  he,  is  forever  denied  them.  Their  one  good  un- 
derstanding of  him  is  that  they  at  last  should  loyally  say, 
"  We  do  not  quite  understand  thee  ;  we  perceive  thee  to  be 
nobler  and  wiser  and  bigger  than  we,  and  will  loyally  follow 
thee." 

The  question  therefore  arises,  Whether,  since  reform  of 
parliament  and  suchlike  have  done  so  little  in  that  respect, 
the  problem  might  not  be  with  some  hope  attacked  in  the  di- 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


1.35 


rect  manner  ?  Suppose  all  our  Institutions,  and  Public  Meth- 
ods of  Procedure,  to  continue  for  the  present  as  they  are  ; 
and  suppose  farther  a  Reform  Premier,  and  the  English  Na- 
tion once  awakening  under  him  to  a  due  sense  of  the  infinite 
importance,  nay  the  vital  necessity  there  is  of  getting  able 
and  abler  men  : — might  not  some  heroic  wisdom,  and  actual 
1  ability '  to  do  what  must  be  done,  prove  discoverable  to  said 
Premier  ;  and  so  the  indispensable  Heaven's-blessing  descend 
to  us  from  above,  since  none  has  yet  sprung  from  below? 
From  above  we  shall  have  to  try  it  ;  the  other  is  exhausted, 
— a  hopeless  method  that !  The  utmost  passion  of  the  house- 
inmates,  ignorant  of  masonry  and  architecture,  cannot  avail 
to  cure  the  house  of  smoke  :  not  if  they  vote  and  agitate  for- 
ever, and  bestir  themselves  to  the  length  even  of  street-barri- 
cades, will  the  smoke  in  the  least  abate  :  how  can  it  ?  Their 
passion  exercised  in  such  ways,  till  Doomsday,  will  avail  them 
nothing.  Let  their  passion  rage  steadily  against  the  existing 
majordomos  to  this  effect,  "  Find  us  men  skilled  in  house- 
building, acquainted  with  the  laws  of  atmospheric  suction, 
and  capable  to  cure  smoke  ; "  something  might  come  of  it ! 
In  the  lucky  circumstance  of  having  one  man  of  real  intellect 
and  courage  to  put  at  the  head  of  the  movement,  much  would 
come  of  it ; — a  New  Downing  Street,  fit  for  the  British  Na- 
tion and  its  bitter  necessities  in  this  New  Era,  would  come  ; 
and  from  that,  in  answer  to  continuous  sacred  fidelity  and 
valiant  toil,  all  good  whatsoever  would  gradually  come. 

Of  the  Continental  nuisance  called  'Bureaucracy,' — if  this 
should  alarm  any  reader, — I  can  see  no  risk  or  possibility  in 
England.  Democracy  is  hot  enough  here,  fierce  enough  ;  it 
is  perennial,  universal,  clearly  invincible  among  us  henceforth. 
No  danger  it  should  let  itself  be  flung  in  chains  by  sham  sec- 
retaries of  the  Pedant  species,  and  accept  their  vile  Age  of 
Pinchbeck  for  its  Golden  Age  !  Democracy  clamours,  with 
its  Newspapers,  its  Parliaments,  and  all  its  Twenty-seven 
million  throats,  continually  in  this  Nation  fore  verm  ore.  I 
remark,  too,  that  the  unconscious  purport  of  all  its  clamours 
is  even  this,  "Find  us  men  skilled," — make  a  New  Downing 
Street,  fit  for  the  New  Era ! 


136 


LATTER-DA  Y  PAMPHLETS. 


Of  the  Foreign  Office,  in  its  reformed  state,  we  have  not 
much  to  say.  Abolition  of  imaginary  work,  and  replacement 
of  it  by  real,  is  on  all  hands  understood  to  be  very  urgent 
there.  Large  needless  expenditures  of  money,  immeasurable 
ditto  of  hypocrisy  and  grimace  ;  embassies,  protocols,  worlds 
of  extinct  traditions,  empty  pedantries,  foul  cobwebs  : — but 
we  will  by  no  means  apply  the  ' live  coal'  of  our  witty  friend  ; 
the  Foreign  Office  will  repent,  and  not  be  driven  to  suicide  ! 
A  truer  time  will  come  for  the  Continental  Nations  too  :  Au- 
thorities based  on  truth,  and  on  the  silent  or  spoken  Worship 
of  Human  Nobleness,  will  again  get  themselves  established 
there  ;  all  Sham-Authorities,  and  consequent  Real- An  archies 
based  on  universal-suffrage  and  the  Gospel  according  to  George 
Sand,  being  put  away  ;  and  noble  action,  heroic  new-develop- 
ments of  human  faculty  and  industry,  and  blessed  fruit  as  of 
Paradise  getting  itself  conquered  from  the  waste  battle-field 
of  the  chaotic  elements,  will  once  more,  there  as  here,  begin 
to  show  themselves. 

When  the  Continental  Nations  have  once  got  to  the  bottom 
of  their  Augean  Stable,  and  begun  to  have  real  enterprises 
based  on  the  eternal  facts  again,  our  Foreign  Office  may  again 
have  extensive  concerns  with  them.  And  at  all  times,  and 
even  now,  there  will  remain  the  question  to  be  sincerely  put 
and  wisely  answered,  What  essential  concern  has  the  British 
Nation  with  them  and  their  enterprises  ?  Any  concern  at  all, 
except  that  of  handsomely  keeping  apart  from  them  ?  If  so, 
what  are  the  methods  of  best  managing  it? — At  present,  as 
was  said,  while  Red  Republic  but  clashes  with  foul  Bureau- 
cracy ;  and  Nations,  sunk  in  blind  ignavia,  demand  a  univer- 
sal-suffrage Parliament  to  heal  their  wretchedness  ;  and  wild 
Anarchy  and  Phallus-Worship  struggle  with  Sham-Kingship 
and  extinct  or  galvanised  Catholicism  ;  and  in  the  Cave  of 
the  Winds  all  manner  of  rotten  waifs  and  wrecks  are  hurled 
against  each  other, — our  English  interest  in  the  controversy, 
however  huge  said  controversy  grow,  is  quite  trifling  ;  wo 
have  only  in  a  handsome  manner  to  say  to  it :  "  Tumble  and 
rage  along,  ye  rotten  waifs  and  wrecks  ;  clash  and  collide  as 
seems  fittest  to  you ;  and  smite  each  other  into  annihilation 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


137 


at  your  own  good  pleasure.  In  that  huge  conflict,  dismal  but 
unavoidable,  we,  thanks  to  our  heroic  ancestors,  having  got 
so  far  ahead  of  you,  have  now  no  interest  at  all.  Our  decided 
notion  is,  the  dead  ought  to  bury  their  dead  in  such  a  case  : 
and  so  we  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  distinguished  consider- 
ation, your  entirely  devoted, — Flimnap,  Sec.  Foreign  Depart- 
ment."— I  really  think  Flimnap,  till  truer  times  come,  ought 
to  treat  much  of  his  work  in  this  way  :  cautious  to  give  of- 
fence to  his  neighbours  ;  resolute  not  to  concern  himself  in 
any  of  their  self -annihilating  operations  whatsoever. 

Foreign  wars  are  sometimes  unavoidable.  We  ourselves, 
in  the  course  of  natural  merchandising  and  laudable  business, 
have  now  and  then  got  into  ambiguous  situations  ;  into  quar- 
rels which  needed  to  be  settled,  and  without  fighting  would 
not  settle.  Sugar  Islands,  Spice  Islands,  Indias,  Canadas, — 
these,  by  the  real  decree  of  Heaven,  were  ours ;  and  nobody 
would  or  could  believe  it,  till  it  was  tried  by  cannon  law,  and 
so  proved.  Such  cases  happen.  In  former  times  especially, 
owing  very  much  to  want  of  intercourse  and  to  the  conse- 
quent mutual  ignorance,  there  did  occur  misunderstandings  : 
and  therefrom  many  foreign  wars,  some  of  them  by  no  means 
unnecessary.  With  China,  or  some  distant  country,  too  un- 
intelligent of  us  and  too  unintelligible  to  us,  there  still  some- 
times rises  necessary  occasion  for  a  war.  Nevertheless  wars, — 
misunderstandings  that  get  to  the  length  of  arguing  them- 
selves out  by  sword  and  cannon, — have,  in  these  late  genera- 
tions of  improved  intercourse,  been  palpably  becoming  less 
and  less  necessary  ;  have  in  a  manner  become  superfluous, — 
if  we  had  a  little  Avisdom,  and  our  Foreign  Office  on  a  good 
footing. 

•  Of  European  wars  I  really  hardly  remember  any,  since 
Oliver  Cromwell's  last  Protestant  or  Liberation  war  with 
Popish  antichristian  Spain  some  two  hundred  years  ago,  to 
which  I  for  my  own  part  could  have  contributed  my  life  with 
any  heartiness,  or  in  fact  would  have  subscribed  money  itself 
to  any  considerable  amount.  Dutch  William,  a  man  of  some 
heroism,  did  indeed  get  into  troubles  with  Louis  Fourteenth ; 


138 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


and  there  rested  till  some  shadow  of  Protestant  Interest,  and 
question  of  National  and  individual  Independence,  over  those 
wide  controversies  ;  a  little  money  and  human  enthusiasm 
was  still  due  to  Dutch  William.  Illustrious  Chatham  also, 
not  to  speak  of  his  Manilla  ransoms  and  the  like,  did  one 
thing  :  assisted  Fritz  of  Prussia,  a  brave  man  and  king  (al- 
most the  only  sovereign  King  I  have  known  since  Cromwell's 
time)  like  to  be  borne  down  by  ignoble  men  and  sham-kings  ; 
for  this  let  illustrious  Chatham  too  have  a  little  money  and 
human  enthusiasm, — a  little,  by  no  means  much.  But  what 
am  I  to  say  of  heavenborn  Pitt  the  son  of  Chatham  ?  Eng- 
land sent  forth  her  fleets  and  armies  ;  her  money  into  every 
country  ;  money  as  if  the  heavenborn  Chancellor  had  got  a 
Fortunatus'  purse ;  as  if  this  Island  had  become  a  volcanic 
fountain  of  gold,  or  new  terrestrial  sun  capable  of  radiating 
mere  guineas.  The  result  of  all  which,  what  was  it  ?  Elderly 
men  can  remember  the  tar-barrels  burnt  for  success  and  thrice- 
immortal  victory  in  the  business  ;  and  yet  what  result  had 
we  ?  The  French  Revolution,  a  Fact  decreed  in  the  Eternal 
Councils,  could  not  be  put  down :  the  result  was,  that  heav- 
enborn Pitt  had  actually  been  fighting  (as  the  old  Hebrews 
would  have  said)  against  the  Lord, — that  the  Laws  of  Nature 
were  stronger  than  Pitt.  Of  whom  therefore  there  remains 
chiefly  his  unaccountable  radiation  of  guineas,  for  the  grati- 
tude of  posterity.  Thank  you  for  nothing, — for  eight  hun- 
dred millions  less  than  nothing  ! 

Our  War  Offices,  Admiralties,  and  other  Fighting  Estab- 
lishments, are  forcing  themselves  on  everybody's  attention  at 
this  time.  Bull  grumbles  audibly  :  "  The  money  you  have 
cost  me  these  five-and  thirty  years,  during  which  you  have 
stood  elaborately  ready  to  fight  at  any  moment,  without  at 
any  moment  being  called  to  fight,  is  surely  an  astonishing 
sum.  The  National  Debt  itself  might  have  been  half  paid  by 
that  money,  which  has  all  gone  in  pipeclay  and  blank  car- 
tridges !  "  Yes,  Mr.  Bull,  the  money  can  be  counted  in  hun- 
dreds of  millions,  which  certainly  is  something  :  but  the '  stren- 
uously organised  idleness,'  and  what  mischief  that  amounts' 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


130 


to, — have  you  computed  it  ?  A  perpetual  solecism,  and  bias- 
pliemy  (of  its  sort),  set  to  march  openly  among  us,  dressed 
in  scarlet !  Bull,  with  a  more  and  more  sulky  tone,  demands 
that  such  solecism  be  abated  ;  that  these  Fighting  Establish- 
ments be  as  it  were  disbanded,  and  set  to  do  some  work  in 
the  Creation,  since  fighting  there  is  now  none  for  them.  This 
demand  is  irrefragably  just,  is  growing  urgent  too  ;  and  yet 
this  demand  cannot  be  complied  with, — not  yet  while  the 
State  grounds  itself  on  unrealities,  and  Downing  Street  con- 
tinues what  it  is. 

The  old  Komans  made  their  soldiers  work  during  intervals 
of  war.  The  New  Downing  Street  too,  we  may  predict,  will 
have  less  and  less  tolerance  for  idleness  on  the  part  of  soldiers 
or  others.  Nay  the  New  Downing  Street,  I  foresee,  when 
once  it  has  got  its  'Industrial  Regiments'  organised,  will  make 
these  mainly  do  its  fighting,  what  fighting  there  is  ;  and  so 
save  immense  sums.  Or  indeed,  all  citizens  of  the  Common- 
wealth, as  is  the  right  and  the  interest  of  every  free  man  in 
this  world,  will  have  themselves  trained  to  arms  ;  each  citizen 
ready  to  defend  his  country  with  his  own  body  and  soul, — 
he  is  not  worthy  to  have  a  country  otherwise.  In  a  State 
grounded  on  veracities,  that  would  be  the  rule.  Downing 
Street,  if  it  cannot  bethink  itself  of  returning  to  the  veracities, 
will  have  to  vanish  altogether  ! 

To  fight  with  its  neighbours  never  was,  and  is  now  less 
than  ever,  the  real  trade  of  England.  For  far  other  objects 
was  the  English  People  created  into  this  world  ;  sent  down 
from  the  Eternities,  to  mark  with  its  history  certain  spaces  in 
the  current  of  sublunary  Time  !  Essential  too  that  the  English 
People  should  discover  what  its  real  objects  are  ;  and  reso- 
lutely follow  these,  resolutely  refusing  to  follow  other  than 
these.  The  State  will  have  victory  so  far  as  it  can  do  that ;  so 
far  as  it  cannot,  defeat. 

In  the  New  Downing  Street,  discerning  what  its  real  func- 
tions are,  and  with  sacred  abhorrence  putting  away  from  it 
what  its  functions  are  not,  we  can  fancy  changes  enough  in 
Foreign  Office,  War  Office,  Colonial  Office,  Home  Office  !  Our 
War-soldiers  Industrial,  first  of  all ;  doing  nobler  than  Roman 


140 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


works,  when  fighting  is  not  wanted  of  them.  Seventy-four& 
not  hanging  idly  by  their  anchors  in  the  Tagus,  or  off  Sapi- 
enza  (one  of  the  saddest  sights  under  the  sun),  but  busy,  every 
Seventy-four  of  them,  carrying-over  streams  of  British  Indus- 
trials to  the  immeasurable  Britain  that  lies  beyond  the  sea  in 
every  zone  of  the  world.  A  State  grounding  itself  on  the 
veracities,  not  on  the  semblances  and  the  injustices  :  every 
citizen  a  soldier  for  it.  Here  would  be  new  real  Secretary- 
ships and  Ministries,  not  for  foreign  war  and  diplomacy,  but 
for  domestic  peace  and  utility.  Minister  of  Works  ;  Minister 
of  Justice, — clearing  his  Model-Prisons  of  their  scoundrelism .; 
shipping  his  scoundrels  wholly  abroad,  -under  hard  and  just 
drill-sergeants  (hundreds  of  such  stand  wistfully  ready  for  you, 
these  thirty  years,  in  the  Rag-and-Famish  Club  and  else- 
where !)  into  fertile  desert  countries  ;  to  make  railways, — one 
big  railway  (says  the  Major  ')  quite  across  America  ;  fit  to  em- 
ploy all  the  able-bodied  Scoundrels  and  efficient  Half-pay 
Officers  in  Nature  ! 

Lastly, — or  rather  firstly,  and  as  the  preliminary  of  all, — 
would  there  not  be  a  Minister  of  Education  ?  Minister  charged 
to  get  this  English  People  taught  a  little,  at  his  and  our  peril ! 
Minister  of  Education  ;  no  longer  dolefully  embayed  amid  the 
wreck  of  moribund  'religions,'  but  clear  ahead  of  all  that; 
steering,  free  and  piously  fearless,  towards  his  divine  goal  un- 
der the  eternal  stars  !  O  Heaven,  and  are  these  things  for- 
ever impossible,  then  ?  Not  a  whit.  Tomorrow  morning  they 
might  all  begin  to  be,  and  go  on  through  blessed  centuries 
realising  themselves,  if  it  were  not  that — alas,  if  it  were  not 
that  we  are  most  of  us  insincere  persons,  sham  talking-machines 
and  hollow  windy  fools  !  Which  it  is  not  '  impossible '  that  we 
should  cease  to  be,  I  hope  ? 


Constitutions  for  the  Colonies  are  now  on  the  anvil  ;  the 
discontented  Colonies  are  all  to  be  cured  of  their  miseries  by 
Constitutions.    Whether  that  will  cure  their  miseries,  or  only 
operate  as  a  Godfrey's-cordial  to  stop  their  whimpering,  and 
1  Major  Carmichael  Smith  :  see  his  Pamphlets  on  this  subject. 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


141 


in  the  end  worsen  all  their  miseries,  may  be  a  sad  doubt  to  us. 
One  thing  strikes  a  remote  spectator  in  these  Colonial  ques- 
tions :  the  singular  placidity  with  which  the  British  Statesman 
at  this  time,  backed  by  M'Croudy  and  the  British  moneyed 
classes,  is  prepared  to  surrender  whatsoever  interest  Britain, 
as  foundress  of  those  establishments,  might  pretend  to  have 
in  the  decision.  "If  you  want  to  go  from  us,  go  ;  we  by  no 
means  want  you  to  stay  :  you  cost  us  money  yearly,  which  is 
scarce  ;  desperate  quantities  of  trouble  too  :  why  not  go,  if 
you  wish  it  ?  "  Such  is  the  humour  of  the  British  Statesman, 
at  this  time. — Men  clear  for  rebellion,  Annexation'  as  they 
call  it,  walk  openly  abroad  in  our  American  Colonies  ;  found 
newspapers,  hold  platform  palaverings.  From  Canada  there 
comes  duly  by  each  mail  a  regular  statistic  of  Annexationism  : 
increasing  fast  in  this  quarter,  diminishing  in  that ;- — Majesty's 
Chief  Governor  seeming  to  take  it  as  a  perfectly  open  ques- 
tion ;  Majesty's  Chief  Governor  in  fact  seldom  appearing  on 
the  scene  at  all,  except  to  receive  the  impact  of  a  few  rotten 
eggs  on  occasion,  and  then  duck  in  again  to  his  private  con- 
templations. And  yet  one  would  think  the  Majesty's  Chief 
Governor  ought  to  have  a  kind  of  interest  in  the  thing?  Public 
liberty  is  carried  to  a  great  length  in  some  portions  of  her 
Majesty's  dominions.  But  the  question,  "Are  we  to  continue 
subjects  of  her  Majesty,  or  start  rebelling  against  her  ?  So 
many  as  are  for  rebelling,  hold  up  your  hands  !  "  Here  is  a 
public  discussion  of  a  very  extraordinary  nature  to  be  go- 
ing on  under  the  nose  of  a  Governor  of  Canada.  How  the 
Governor  of  Canada,  being  a  British  piece  of  flesh  and  blood, 
and  not  a  Canadian  lumber-log  of  mere  pine  and  rosin,  can 
stand  it,  is  not  very  conceivable  at  first  view.  He  does  it, 
seemingly,  with  the  stoicism  of  a  Zeno.  It  is  a  constitutional 
sight  like  few. 

And  yet  an  instinct  deeper  than  the  Gospel  of  M'Croudy 
teaches  all  men  that  Colonies  are  worth  something  to  a  coun-' 
try  !  That  if,  under  the  present  Colonial  Office,  they  are  a 
vexation  to  us  and  themselves,  some  other  Colonial  Office  can 
and  must  be  contrived  which  shall  render  them  a  blessing ; 
and  that  the  remedy  will  be  to  contrive  such  a  Colonial  Office 


142 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


or  method  of  administration,  and  by  no  means  to  cut  the  Col- 
onies loose.  Colonies  are  not  to  be  picked  off  the  street  every 
day  ;  not  a  Colony  of  them  but  has  been  bought  dear,  well 
purchased  by  the  toil  and  blood  of  those  we  have  the  honour 
to  be  sons  of  ;  and  we  cannot  just  afford  to  cut  them  away 
because  M'Croudy  finds  the  present  management  of  them  cost 
money.  The  present  management  will  indeed  require  to  be 
cut  away  ; — but  as  for  the  Colonies,  we  purpose  through 
Heaven's  blessing  to  retain  them  a  while  yet !  Shame  on  us 
for  unworthy  sons  of  brave  fathers  if  we  do  not.  Brave 
fathers,  by  valiant  blood  and  sweat,  purchased  for  us,  from 
the  bounty  of  Heaven,  rich  possessions  in  all  zones  ;  and  we, 
wretched  imbeciles,  cannot  do  the  function  of  administering 
them  ?  And  because  the  accounts  do  not  stand  well  in  the 
ledger,  our  remedy  is,  not  to  take  shame  to  ourselves,  and  re- 
pent in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  amend  our  beggarly  imbe- 
cilities and  insincerities  in  that  as  in  other  departments  of  our 
business,  but  to  fling  the  business  overboard,  and  declare  the 
business  itself  to  be  bad  ?  We  are  a  hopeful  set  of  heirs  to  a 
big  fortune  !  It  does  not  suit  our  Manton  gunneries,  grouse- 
shootings,  mousings  in  the  City ;  and  like  spirited  young 
gentlemen  we  will  give  it  up,  and  let  the  attorneys  take 
it? 

Is  there  no  value,  then,  in  human  things,  but  what  can 
write  itself  down  in  the  cash-ledger  ?  All  men  know,  and  even 
M'Croudy  in  his  inarticulate  heart  knows,  that  to  men  and 
Nations  there  are  invaluable  values  which  cannot  be  sold  for 
money  at  all.  George  Robins  is  great ;  but  he  is  not  omnipo- 
tent. George  Robins  cannot  quite  sell  Heaven  and  Earth  by 
auction,  excellent  though  he  be  at  the  business.  Nay,  if 
M'Croudy  offered  his  own  life  for  sale  in  Threadneedle  Street, 
would  anybody  buy  it  ?  Not  I,  for  one.  "  Nobody  bids  : 
pass  on  to  the  next  lot,"  answers  Robins.  And  jret  to 
M'Croudy  this  unsaleable  lot  is  worth  all  the  Universe  : — nay, 
I  believe,  to  us  also  it  is  worth  something ;  good  monitions, 
as  to  several  things,  do  lie  in  this  Professor  of  the  dismal 
science  ;  and  considerable  sums  even  of  money,  not  to  speak 
of  other  benefit,  will  yet  come  out  of  his  life  and  him,  for 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


143 


which  nobody  bids  !  Robins  has  his  own  field  where  he 
reigns  triumphant  ;  but  to  that  we  will  restrict  him  with  iron 
limits ;  and  neither  Colonies  nor  the  lives  of  Professors, 
nor  other  such  invaluable  objects  shall  come  under  his  ham- 
mer. 

Bad  state  of  the  ledger  will  demonstrate  that  your  way  of 
dealing  with  your  Colonies  is  absurd,  and  urgently  in  want  of 
reform  ;  but  to  demonstrate  that  the  Empire  itself  must  be 
dismembered  to  bring  the  ledger  straight  ?  O  never.  Some- 
thing else  than  the  ledger  must  intervene  to  do  that.  Why 
does  not  England  repudiate  Ireland,  and  insist  on  the  'Re- 
peal,' instead  of  prohibiting  it  under  death-penalties?  Ire- 
land has  never  been  a  paying  speculation  yet,  nor  is  it  like 
soon  to  be  !  Why  does  not  Middlesex  repudiate  Surrey,  and 
Chelsea  Kensington,  and  each  county  and  each  parish,  and  in 
the  end  each  individual  set  up  for  himself  and  his  cashbox, 
repudiating  the  other  and  his,  because  their  mutual  interests 
have  got  into  an  irritating  course?  They  must  change  the 
course,  seek  till  they  discover  a  soothing  one  ;  that  is  the 
remedy,  when  limbs  of  the  same  body  come  to  irritate  one 
another.  Because  the  paltry  tatter  of  a 'garment,  reticulated 
for  you  out  of  thrums  and  listings  in  Downing  Street,  ties 
foot  and  hand  together  in  an  intolerable  manner,  will  you  re- 
lieve yourself  by  cutting  off  the  hand  or  the  foot  ?  You  will 
cut  off  the  paltry  tatter  of  a  pretended  bodycoat,  I  think,  and 
fling  that  to  the  nettles  ;  and  imperatively  require  one  that 
fits  your  size  better. 

Miserabler  theory  than  that  of  money  on  the  ledger  being 
the  primary  rule  for  Empires,  or  for  any  higher  entity  than 
City  owls  and  their  mice-catching,  cannot  well  be  propounded. 
And  I  would  by  no  means  advise  Felicissimus,  ill  at  ease  on 
his  high-trotting  and  now  justly  impatient  Sleswicker,  to  let 
the  poor  horse  in  its  desperation  go  in  that  direction  for  a 
momentary  solace.  If  by  lumber-log  Governors,  by  Godfrey's- 
cordial  Constitutions  or  otherwise,  he  contrive  to  cut  off  the 
Colonies  or  any  real  right  the  big  British  Empire  has  in  her 
Colonies,  both  he  and  the  British  Empire  will  bitterly  repent 
it  one  day  !    The  Sleswicker,  relieved  in  ledger  for  a  moment, 


144 


LATTER-BAY  PAMPHLETS. 


will  find  that  it  is  wounded  in  heart  and  honour  forever  ;  and 
the  turning  of  its  wild  forehoofs  upon  Felicissimus  as  he  lies 
in  the  ditch  combed  off,  is  not  a  thing  I  like  to  think  of  ! 
Britain,  whether  it  be  known  to  Felicissimus  or  not,  has  other 
tasks  appointed  her  in  God's  Universe  than  the  making  of 
money ;  and  woe  will  betide  her  if  she  forget  those  other 
withal.  Tasks,  colonial  and  domestic,  which  are  of  an 
eternally  divine  nature,  and  compared  with  which  all  money, 
and  all  that  is  procurable  by  money,  are  in  strict  arithmetic 
an  imponderable  quantity,  have  been  assigned  this  Nation  ; 
and  they  also  at  last  are  coming  upon  her  again,  clamorous, 
abstruse,  inevitable,  much  to  her  bewilderment  just  now  ! 

This  poor  Nation,  painfully  dark  about  said  tasks  and  the 
way  of  doing  them,  means  to  keeps  its  Colonies  nevertheless, 
as  things  which  somehow  or  other  must  have  a  value,  were  it 
better  seen  into.  They  are  portions  of  the  general  Earth, 
where  the  children  of  Britain  now  dwell ;  where,  the  gods 
have  so  far  sanctioned  their  endeavour,  as  to  say  that  they 
have  a  right  to  dwell.  England  will  not  readily  admit  that 
her  own  children  are  worth  nothing  but  to  be  flung  out  of 
doors  !  England  looking  on  her  Colonies  can  say  :  "  Here 
are  lands  and  seas,  spice-lands,  corn-lands,  timber-lands,  over- 
arched by  zodiacs  and  stars,  clasped  by  many-sounding  seas  ; 
wide  spaces  of  the  Maker's  building,  fit  for  the  cradle  yet  of 
mighty  Nations  and  their  Sciences  and  Heroisms.  Fertile 
continents  still  inhabited  by  wild  beasts  are  mine,  into  which 
all  the  distressed  populations  of  Europe  might  pour  them- 
selves, and  make  at  once  an  Old  World  and  a  New  World 
human.  By  the  eternal  fiat  of  the  gods,  this  must  yet  one 
day  be  ;  this,  by  all  the  Divine  Silences  that  rule  this  Uni- 
verse, silent  to  fools,  eloquent  and  awful  to  the  hearts  of  the 
wise,  is  incessantly  at  this  moment,  and  at  all  moments,  com- 
manded to  begin  to  be.  Unspeakable  deliverance,  and  new 
destiny  of  thousandfold  expanded  manfulness  for  all  men, 
dawns  out  of  the  Future  here.  To  me  has  fallen  the  godlike 
task  of  initiating  all  that :  of  me  and  of  my  Colonies,  the  ab- 
struse Future  asks,  Are  you  wise  enough  for  so  sublime  a 
destiny  ?    Are  you  too  foolish  ?  " 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


145 


That  you  ask  advice  of  whatever  wisdom  is  to  be  had  in  the 
Colony,  and  even  take  note  of  what  un wisdom  is  in  it,  and  re- 
cord  that  too  as  an  existing  fact,  will  certainly  be  very  advan- 
tageous. But  I  suspect  the  kind  of  Parliament  that  will  suit 
a  Colony  is  much  of  a  secret  just  now  !  Mr.  "Wakefield,  a 
democratic  man  in  all  fibres  of  him,  and  acquainted  with  Co- 
lonial Socialities  as  few  are,  judges  that  the  franchise  for  your 
Colonial  Parliament  should  be  decidedly  select,  and  advises  a 
high  money-qualification  ;  as  there  is  in  all  Colonies  a  fluctu- 
ating migratory  mass,  not  destitute  of  money,  but  very  much 
so  of  loyalty,  permanency,  or  civic  availability  ; — whom  it  is 
extremely  advantageous  not  to  consult  on  what  you  are  about 
attempting  for  the  Colony  or  Mother  Country.  This  I  can 
well  believe  ; — and  also  that  a  'high  money-qualification,'  in 
the  present  sad  state  of  human  affairs,  might  be  some  help  to 
you  in  selecting  ;  though  whether  even  that  would  quite  cer- 
tainly bring  'wisdom,'  the  one  thing  indispensable,  is  much  a 
question  with  me.  It  might  help,  it  might  help  !  And  if  by 
any  means  you  could  (which  you  cannot)  exclude  the  Fourth 
Estate,  and  indicate  decisively  that  Wise  Advice  was  the  thing 
wanted  here,  and  Parliamentary  Eloquence  was  not  the  thing 
wanted  anywhere  just  now, — there  might  really  some  light  of 
experience  and  human  foresight,  and  a  truly  valuable  benefit, 
be  found  for  you  in  such  assemblies. 

And  there  is  one  thing,  too  apt  to  be  forgotten,  which  it 
much  behoves  us  to  remember :  In  the  Colonies,  as  every- 
where else  in  this  world,  the  vital  point  is  not  who  decides, 
but  what  is  decided  on  !  That  measures  tending  really  to  the 
best  advantage  temporal  and  spiritual  of  the  Colony  be  adopted, 
and  strenuously  put  in  execution  ;  there  lies  the  grand  inter- 
est of  every  good  citizen  British  and  Colonial.  Such  meas- 
ures, whosoever  have  originated  and  prescribed  them,  will 
gradually  be  sanctioned  by  all  men  and  gods  ;  and  clamours 
of  every  kind  in  reference  to  them  may  safely  to  a  great  ex- 
tent be  neglected,  as  clamorous  merely,  and  sure  to  be  tran- 
sient. Colonial  Governor,  Colonial  Parliament,  whoever,  or 
whatever  does  an  injustice,  or  resolves  on  an  tm wisdom,  he  is 
the  pernicious  object,  however  parliamentary  he  be ! 
10 


146 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


I  have  known  things  done,  in  this  or  the  other  Colony,  in 
the  most  parliamentary  way  before  now,  which  carried  written 
on  the  brow  of  them  sad  symptoms  of  eternal  reprobation  ; 
not  to  be  mistaken,  had  you  painted  an  inch  thick.  In  Mon- 
treal, for  example,  at  this  moment,  standing  amid  the  ruins  of 
the  '  Elgin  Marbles '  (as  they  call  the  burnt  walls  of  the  Par- 
liament House  there),  what  rational  British  soul  but  is  forced 
to  institute  the  mournfulest  constitutional  reflections  ?  Some 
years  ago  the  Canadas,  probably  not  without  materials  for  dis- 
content, and  blown  upon  by  skilful  artists,  blazed  up  into 
crackling  of  musketry,  open  flame  of  rebellion  ;  a  thing  smack- 
ing of  the  gallows  in  all  countries  that  pretend  to  have  any 
'  Government.'  Which  flame  of  rebellion,  had  there  been  no 
loyal  population  to  fling  themselves  upon  it  at  peril  of  their 
life,  might  have  ended  we  know  not  how.  It  ended  speedily, 
in  the  good  way  ;  Canada  got  a  (Godfrey 's-cordial  Constitu- 
tion ;  and  for  the  moment  all  was  varnished  into  some  kind  of 
feasibility  again.  A  most  poor  feasibility  ;  momentary,  not 
lasting,  nor  like  to  be  of  profit  to  Canada  !  For  this  year,  the 
Canadian  most  constitutional  parliament,  such  a  congeries  of 
persons  as  one  can  imagine,  decides  that  the  aforesaid  flame  of 
rebellion  shall  not  only  be  forgotten  as  per  bargain,  but  that 
— the  loyal  population,  who  flung  their  lives  upon  it  and 
quenched  it  in  the  nick  of  time,  shall  pay  the  rebels  their 
damages !  Of  this,  I  believe,  on  sadly  conclusive  evidence, 
there  is  do  doubt  whatever.  Such,  when  you  wash  off  the 
constitutional  pigments,  is  the  Death's-head  that  discloses  it- 
self. I  can  only  say,  if  all  the  Parliaments  in  the  world  were 
to  vote  that  such  a  thing  was  just,  I  should  feel  painfully  con- 
strained to  answer,  at  my  peril,  "  No,  by  the  Eternal,  never !  " 
And  I  would  recommend  any  British  Governor  who  might 
come  across  that  Business,  there  or  here,  to  overhaul  it  again. 
What  the  meaning  of  a  Governor,  if  he  is  not  to  overhaul  and 
control  such  things,  may  be,  I  cannot  conjecture.  A  Canadian 
Lumber-log  may  as  well  be  made  Governor.  He  might  have 
sonic  cast-metal  hand  or  shoulder-crank  (a  thing  easily  con- 
1  livable  in  Birmingham)  for  signing  his  name  to  Acts  of  the 
Colonial  Parliament;  he  would  be  a  'native  of  the  country' 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


147 


too,  with  popularity  on  that  score  if  on  no  other  ; — he  is  your 
man,  if  you  really  want  a  Log  Governor  ! — 

I  perceive  therefore  that,  besides  choosing  Parliaments 
never  so  well,  the  New  Colonial  Office  will  have  another  thing 
to  do  :  Contrive  to  send  out  a  new  kind  of  Governors  to  the 
Colonies.  This  will  be  the  mainspring  of  the  business  ;  with- 
out this  the  business  will  not  go  at  all.  An  experienced,  wise 
and  valiant  British  man,  to  represent  the  Imperial  Interest ; 
he,  with  such  a  speaking  or  silent  Collective  Wisdom  as  he 
can  gather  round  him  in  the  Colony,  will  evidently  be  the 
condition  of  all  good  between  the  Mother  Country  and  it.  If 
you  can  find  such  a  man,  your  point  is  gained  ;  if  you  cannot, 
lost.  By  him  and  his  Collective  Wisdom  all  manner  of  true 
relations,  mutual  interests  and  duties  such  as  they  do  exist  in 
fact  between  Mother  Country  and.  Colony,  can  be  gradually 
developed  into  practical  methods  and  results  ;  and  all  manner 
of  true  and  noble  successes,  and  veracities  in  the  way  of  gov- 
erning, be  won.  Choose  well  your  Governor  ; — not  from  this 
or  that  poor  section  of  the  Aristocracy,  military,  naval,  or  red- 
tapist  ;  wherever  there  are  born  kings  of  men,  you  had  better 
seek  them  out,  and  breed  them  to  this  work.  All  sections  of 
the  British  Population  will  be  open  to  you  :  and,  on  the  whole, 
you  must  succeed  in  finding  a  man^.  And  having  found, 
him,  I  would  farther  recommend  you  to  keep  him  some  time ! 
It  would  be  a  great  improvement  to  end  this  present  nomadism 
of  Colonial  Governors.  Give  your  Governor  due  power  ;  and 
let  him  know  withal  that  he  is  wedded  to  his  enterprise,  and 
having  once  well  learned  it,  shall  continue  with  it ;  that  it  is 
not  a  Canadian  Lumber-Log  you  want  there,  to  tumble  upon 
the  vortexes  and  sign  its  name  by  a  Birmingham  shoulder- 
crank,  but  a  Governor  of  Men  ;  who,  you  mean,  shall  fairly 
gird  himself  to  his  enterprise,  and  fail  with  it  and  conquer 
with  it,  and  as  it  were  live  and  die  with  it :  he  will  have  much 
to  learn  ;  and  having  once  learned  it,  will  stay,  and  turn  his 
knowledge  to  account. 

From  this  kind  of  Governor,  were  you  once  in  the  way  of 
finding  him  with  moderate  certainty,  from  him  and  his  Ccllec- 


us 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


tive  "Wisdom,  all  good  whatsoever  might  be  anticipated.  And 
surely,  were  the  Colonies  once  enfranchised  from  redtape,  and 
the  poor  Mother  Country  once  enfranchised  from  it ;  were  our 
idle  Seventy-fours  all  busy  carrying-out  streams  of  British  In- 
dustrials, and  those  Scoundrel  Regiments  all  working,  under 
divine  drill-sergeants,  at  the  grand  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Junc- 
tion Railway, — poor  Britain  and  her  poor  Colonies  might  find 
that  they  had  true  relations  to  each  other :  that  the  Imperial 
Mother  and  her  constitutionally  obedient  Daughters  was  not  a 
redtape  fiction,  provoking  bitter  mockery  as  at  present,  but  a 
blessed  God's-Fact  destined  to  fill  half  the  world  with  its 
fruits  one  day ! 


But  undoubtedly  our  grand  primary  concern  is  the  Home 
Office,  and  its  Irish  Giant  named  of  Despair.  When  the 
Home  Office  begins  dealing  with  this  Irish  Giant,  which  it  is 
vitally  urgent  for  us  the  Home  Office  should  straightway  do, 
it  will  find  its  duties  enlarged  to  a  most  unexpected  extent, 
and,  as  it  were,  altered  from  top  to  bottom.  A  changed  time 
now  when  the  question  is,  What  to  do  with  three  millions  of 
paupers  (come  upon  you  for  food,  since  you  have  no  work  for 
them)  increasing  at  a  frightful  rate  per  day  ?  Home  Office, 
Parliament,  King,  Constitution  will  find  that  they  have  now, 
if  they  will  continue  in  this  world  long,  got  a  quite  immense 
new  question  and  continually-recurring  set  of  questions.  That 
huge  question  of  the  Irish  Giant,  with  his  Scotch  and  English 
Giant-Progeny  advancing  open-mouthed  upon  us,  will,  as  I 
calculate,  change  from  top  to  bottom  not  the  Home  Office 
only  but  all  manner  of  Offices  and  Institutions  whatsoever, 
and  gradually  the  structure  of  Society  itself.  I  perceive,  it 
will  make  us  a  new  Society,  if  we  are  to  continue  a  Society  at 
all.  For  the  alternative  is  not,  Stay  where  we  are,  or  change  ? 
But  Change,  with  new  wise  effort  fit  for  the  new  time,  to  true 
and  wider  nobler  National  Life  ;  or  Change,  by  indolent  fold- 
ing of  the  anus,  as  we  are  now  doing,  in  horrible  anarchies 
.and  convulsions  to  Dissolution,  to  National  Death,  or  Sus- 
pended-animation ?    Suspended-animation  itself  is  a  frightfuJ 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


149 


possibility  for  Britain  :  this  Anarchy  whither  all  Europe  has 
preceded  us,  where  all  Europe  is  now  weltering,  would  suit 
us  as  ill  as  any  !  The  question  for  the  British  Nation  is  :  Can 
we  work  our  course  pacifically,  on  firm  land,  into  the  New 
Era  ;  or  must  it  be,  for  us  too,  as  for  all  the  others,  through 
black  abysses  of  Anarchy,  hardly  escaping,  if  we  do  with  all 
our  struggles  escape,  the  jaws  of  eternal  Death? 

For  Pauperism,  though  it  now  absorbs  its  high  figure  of 
millions  annually,  is  by  no  means  a  question  of  money  only, 
but  of  infinitely  higher  and  greater  than  all  conceivable  money. 
If  our  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  had  a  Fortunatus'  purse, 
and  miraculous  sacks  of  Indian  meal  that  would  stand  scoop- 
ing from  forever, — I  say,  even  on  these  terms  Pauperism 
could  not  be  endured  ;  and  it  would  vitally  concern  all  Brit- 
ish Citizens  to  abate  Pauperism,  and  never  rest  till  they  had 
ended  it  again.  Pauperism  is  the  general  leakage  through 
every  joint  of  the  ship  that  is  rotten.  Were  all  men  doing 
their  duty,  or  even  seriously  trying  to  do  it,  there  would  be 
no  Pauper.  .  Were  the  pretended  Captains  of  the  world  at  all 
in  the  habit  of  commanding ;  were  the  pretended  Teachers  of 
the  world  at  all  in  the  habit  of  teaching, — of  admonishing  said 
Captains  among  others,  and  with  sacred  zeal  apprising  them 
to  what  place  such  neglect  was  leading, — how  could  Pauper- 
ism exist?  Pauperism  would  lie  far  over  the  horizon  ;  we 
should  be  lamenting  and  denouncing  quite  inferior  sins  of 
men,  which  were  only  tending  afar  off  towards  Pauperism.  A 
true  Captaincy  ;  a  true  Teachership,  either  making  all  men 
and  Captains  know  and  devoutly  recognise  the  eternal  law  of 
things,  or  else  breaking  its  own  heart,  and  going  about  with 
sackcloth  round  its  loins,  in  testimony  of  continual  sorrow 
and  protest,  and  prophecy  of  God's  vengeance  upon  such  a 
course  of  things :  either  of  these  divine  equipments  would 
have  saved  us  ;  and  it  is  because  we  have  neither  of  them  that 
we  are  come  to  such  a  pass  ! 

AVe  may  depend  upon  it,  where  there  is  a  Pauper,  there  is 
a  sin  ;  to  make  one  Pauper  there  go  many  sins.  Pauperism  is 
our  Social  Sin  grown  manifest  ;  developed  from  the  state  of  a 
spiritual  ignobleness,  a  practical  impropriety  and  base  obliv- 


150 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


ion  of  duty,  to  an  affair  of  the  ledger.  Here  is  not  now  an 
unheeded  sin  against  God  ;  here  is  a  concrete  ugly  hulk  of 
Beggary  demanding  that  you  should  buy  Indian  meal  for  it. 
Men  of  reflection  have  long  looked  with  a  horror  for  which 
there  was  no  response  in  the  idle  public,  upon  Pauperism  ;  bufc 
the  quantity  of  meal  it  demands  has  now  awakened  men  of  no 
reflection  to  consider  it.  Pauperism  is  the  poisonous  dripping 
from  all  the  sins,  and  putrid  un veracities  and  godforgetting 
greedinesses  and  devil-serving  cants  and  jesuitisms,  that  exist 
among  us.  Not  one  idle  Sham  lounging  about  Creation  upon 
false  pretences,  upon  means  which  he  has  not  earned,  upon 
theories  which  he  does  not  practise,  but  yields  his  share  of 
Pauperism  somewhere  or  other.  His  sham-work  oozes  down  ; 
finds  at  last  its  issue  as  human  Pauperism, — in  a  human  being 
that  by  those  false  pretences  cannot  live.  The  Idle  W ork- 
house,  now  about  to  burst  of  overfilling,  what  is  it  but  the 
scandalous  poison-tank  of  drainage  from  the  universal  Stygian 
quagmire  of  our  affairs  ?  Work-house  Paupers  ;  immortal 
sons  of  Adam  rotted  into  that  scandalous  condition,  subter- 
slavish,  demanding  that  you  would  make  slaves  of  them  as  an 
unattainable  blessing !  My  friends,  I  perceive  the  quagmire 
must  be  drained,  or  we  cannot  live.  And  farther,  I  perceive, 
this  of  Pauperism  is  the  corner  where  we  must  begin, — the 
levels  all  pointing  thitherward,  the  possibilities  lying  all  clearly 
there.  On  that  Problem  we  shall  find  that  innumerable 
things,  that  all  things  whatsoever  hang.  By  courageous 
steadfast  persistence  in  that,  I  can  foresee  Society  itself  regen- 
erated. In  the  course  of  long  strenuous  centuries,  I  can  see 
the  State  become  what  it  is  actually  bound  to  be,  the  keystone 
of  a  most  real  'Organisation  of  Labour,' — and  on  this  Earth  a 
world  of  some  veracity,  and  some  heroism,  once  more  worth 
living  in  ! 

The  State  in  all  European  countries,  and  in  England  first 
of  all,  as  I  hope,  will  discover  that  its  functions  are  now,  and 
have  long  been,  very  wide  of  what  the  State  in  old  pedant 
Downing  Streets  has  aimed  at  ;  that  the  State  is,  for  the  pres- 
ent, not  a  reality  but  in  great  part  a  dramatic  speciosity,  ex- 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


151 


pending  its  strength  in  practices  and  objects  fallen  many  of 
them  quite  obsolete  ;  that  it  must  come  a  little  nearer  the 
true  aim  again,  or  it  cannot  continue  in  this  world.  The 
'  Champion  of  England '  cased  in  iron  or  tin,  and  '  able  to 
mount  his  horse  with  little  assistance,' — this  Champion  and 
the  thousandfold  cousinry  of  Phantasms  he  has,  nearly  all 
dead  now  but  still  walking  as  ghosts,  must  positively  take  him- 
self away  :  who  can  endure  him,  and  his  solemn  trumpetings 
and  obsolete  gesticulations,  in  a  Time  that  is  full  of  deadly 
realities,  coming  open-mouthed  upon  us  ?  At  Drury  Lane  let 
him  play  his  part,  him  and  his  thousandfold  cousinry  ;  and 
welcome,  so  long  as  any  public  will  pay  a  shilling  to  see  him  : 
but  on  the  solid  earth,  under  the  extremely  earnest  stars,  we 
dare  not  palter  wdth  him,  or  accept  his  tomfooleries  any  more. 
Ridiculous  they  seem  to  some  ;  horrible  they  seem  to  me  :  all 
lies,  if  one  look  whence  they  come  and  whither  they  go,  are 
horrible. 

Alas,  it  will  be  found,  I  doubt,  that  in  England  more  than 
in  any  country,  our  Public  Life  and  our  Private,  our  State  and 
our  Religion,  and  all  that  we  do  and  speak  (and  the  most  even 
of  what  we  think),  is  a  tissue  of  half-truths  and  whole-lies  ;  of 
hypocrisies,  conventionalisms,  worn-out  traditionary  rags  and 
cobwebs  ;  such  a  life-garment  of  beggarly  incredible  and  un- 
credited  falsities  as  no  honest  souls  of  Adam's  Posterity  were 
ever  enveloped  in  before.  And  we  walk  about  in  it  with  a 
stately  gesture,  as  if  it  were  some  priestly  stole  or  imperial 
mantle  ;  not  the  foulest  beggar's-gabardine  that  ever  was. 
'  No  Englishman  dare  believe  the  truth,'  says  one  :  'he  stands, 
for  these  two-hundred  years,  enveloped  in  lies  of  every  kind  ; 
from  nadir  to  zenith  an  ocean  of  traditionary  cant  surrounds 
him  as  his  life-element.  He  really  thinks  the  truth  dangerous. 
Poor  wretch,  you  see  him  everywhere  endeavouring  to  temper 
the  truth  by  taking  the  falsity  along  with  it,  and  welding 
them  together  ;  this  he  calls  "  safe  course,"  c;  moderate  course," 
and  other  fine  names ;  there,  balanced  between  God  and  the 
Devil,  he  thinks  he  can  serve  two  masters,  and  that  things  will 
go  well  with  him.' 

In  the  cotton- spinning  and  similar  departments  our  English 


152 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


friend  knows  well  that  truth  or  God  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  Devil  or  falsehood,  but  will  ravel  all  the  web  to 
pieces  if  you  introduce  the  Devil  or  Non-veracity  in  any  form 
into  it :  in  this  department,  therefore,  our  English  friend 
avoids  falsehood.  But  in  the  religious,  political,  social,  moral, 
and  all  other  spiritual  departments  he  freely  introduces  false- 
hood, nothing  doubting  ;  and  has  long  done  so,  with  a  pro- 
fuseness  not  elsewhere  met  with  in  the  world.  The  unhappy 
creature,  does  he  not  know,  then,  that  every  lie  is  accursed, 
and  the  parent  of  mere  curses?  That  he  must  think  the 
truth  ;  much  more  speak  it  ?  That,  above  all  things,  by  the 
oldest  law  of  Heaven  and  Earth  which  no  man  violates  with 
impunity,  he  must  not  and  shall  not  wag  the  tongue  of  him 
except  to  utter  his  thought?  That  there  is  not  a  grin  or 
beautiful  acceptable  grimace  he  can  execute  upon  his  poor 
countenance,  but  is  either  an  express  veracity,  the  image  of 
what  passes  within  him  ;  or  else  is  a  bit  of  Devil-worship  which 
he  and  the  rest  of  us  will  have  to  pay  for  yet  ?  Alas,  the 
grins  he  executes  upon  his  poor  mind  (which  is  all  tortured 
into  St.  Vitus  dances,  and  ghastly  merry-andrewisms,  by  the 
practice)  are  the  most  extraordinary  this  sun  ever  saw. 

We  have  Puseyisms,  black-and-white  surplice  controver- 
sies : — do  not,  officially  and  otherwise,  the  select  of  the  longest 
heads  in  England  sit  with  intense  application  and  iron  gravity, 
in  open  forum,  judging  of  '  prevenient  grace '  ?  Not  a  head 
of  them  suspects  that  it  can  be  improper  so  to  sit,  or  of  the 
nature  of  treason  against  the  Power  who  gave  an  Intellect  to 
man  ; — that  it  can  be  other  than  the  duty  of  a  good  citizen  to 
use  his  godgiven  intellect  in  investigating  prevenient  grace, 
supervenient  moonshine,  or  the  colour  of  the  Bishop's  night- 
mare, if  that  happened  to  turn  up.  I  consider  them  far  ahead 
of  Cicero's  Roman  Augurs  with  their  chicken-bowels :  "  Behold 
these  divine  chicken -bowels,  O  Senate  and  Roman  People  ;  the 
midriff  has  fallen  eastward  !  "  solemnly  intimates  one  Augur. 
"  By  Proserpina  and  the  triple  Hecate  !  "  exclaims  the  other, 
"  I  say  the  midriff  has  fallen  to  the  west !  "  And  they  look  at 
one  another  with  the  seriousness  of  men  prepared  to  die  in 
their  opinion, — the  authentic  seriousness  of  men  betting  at 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


153 


Tattersall's,  or  about  to  receive  judgment  in  Chancery.  There 
is  in  the  Englishman  something  great,  beyond  all  Koman 
greatness,  in  whatever  line  you  meet  him  ;  even  as  a  Latter- 
Day  Augur  he  seeks  his  fellow  ! — Poor  devil,  I  believe  it  is  his 
intense  love  of  peace,  and  hatred  of  breeding  discussions 
which  lead  nowhither,  that  has  led  him  into  this  sad  practice 
of  amalgamating  true  and  false. 

He  has  been  at  it  these  two-hundred  years  ;  and  has  now 
carried  it  to  a  terrible  length.  He  couldn't  follow  Oliver 
Cromwell  in  the  Puritan  path  heavenward,  so  steep  was  it, 
and  beset  with  thorns, — and  becoming  uncertain  withal.  He 
much  preferred,  at  that  juncture,  to  go  heavenward  with  his 
Charles  Second  and  merry  Nell  Gwynns,  and  old  decent  for- 
mularies and  good  respectable  aristocratic  company,  for  es- 
cort ;  sore  he  tried,  by  glorious  restorations,  glorious  revolu- 
tions and  so  forth,  to  perfect  this  desirable  amalgam  ;  hoped 
always  it  might  be  possible  ; — is  only  just  now,  if  even  now, 
beginning  to  give  up  the  hope  ;  and  to  see  with  wide-eyed 
horror  that  it  is  not  at  Heaven  he  is  arriving,  but  at  the  Styg- 
ian marshes,  with  their  thirty-thousand  Needlewomen,  canni- 
bal Connaughts,  rivers  of  lamentation,  continual  wail  of  in- 
fants, and  the  yellow-burning  gleam  of  a  Hell-on-Earth  ! — 
Bull,  my  friend,  you  must  strip  that  astonishing  pontiff-stole, 
imperial  mantle,  or  whatever  you  imagine  it  to  be,  which  I 
discern  to  be  a  garment  of  curses,  and  poisoned  Nessus'-shirt 
now  at  last  about  to  take  fire  upon  you  ;  you  must  strip  that 
off  your  poor  body,  my  friend ;  and,  were  it  only  in  a  soul's 
suit  of  Utilitarian  buff,  and  such  belief  as  that  a  big  loaf  is 
better  than  a  small  one,  come  forth  into  contact  with  your 
world,  under  true  professions  again,  and  not  false.  You 
wretched  man,  you  ought  to  weep  for  half  a  century  on  dis- 
covering what  lies  you  have  believed,  and  wrhat  every  lie  leads 
to  and  proceeds  from.  O  my  friend,  no  honest  fellow  in  this 
Planet  was  ever  so  served  by  his  cooks  before  ;  or  has  eaten 
such  quantities  and  qualities  of  dirt  as  you  have  been  made  to 
do,  for  these  two  centuries  past.  Arise,  my  horribly  mal- 
treated yet  still  beloved  Bull  ;  steep  yourself  in  running  water 
for  a  long  while,  my  friend  ;  and  begin  forthwith  in  every 


154 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


conceivable  direction,  physical  and  spiritual,  the  long-expected 
Scavenger  Age. 

Many  doctors  have  you  had,  my  poor  friend  ;  but  I  per- 
ceive it  is  the  Water- Cure  alone  that  will  help  you  :  a  complete 
course  of  scavengerism  is  the  thing  you  need  !  A  new  and 
veritable  heart-divorce  of  England  from  the  Babylonish  woman, 
who  is  Jesuitism  and  "[Inveracity,  and  dwells  not  at  Rome  now, 
but  under  your  own  nose  and  everywhere  ;  whom,  and  her 
foul  worship  of  Phantasms  and  Devils,  poor  England  had  once 
divorced,  with  a  divine  heroism  not  forgotten  yet,  and  well 
worth  remembering  now  :  a  clearing-out  of  Church  and  State 
from  the  unblessed  host  of  Phantasms  which  have  too  long 
nestled  thick  there,  under  those  astonishing  'Defenders  of  the 
Faith,' — Defenders  of  the  Hypocrisies,  the  spiritual  Vampires 
and  obscene  Nightmares,  under  which  England  lies  in  syn- 
cope ; — this  is  what  you  need  ;  and  if  you  cannot  get  it,  you 
must  die,  my  poor  friend  ! 

Like  people,  like  priest.  Priest,  King,  Home  Office,  all 
manner  of  establishments  and  offices  among  a  people  bear  a 
striking  resemblance  to  the  people  itself.  It  is  because  Bull 
has  been  eating  so  much  dirt  that  his  Home  Offices  have  got 
into  such  a  shockingly  dirty  condition, — the  old  pavements  of 
them  quite  gone  out  of  sight  and  out  of  memory,  and  nothing 
but  mountains  of  long-accumulated  dung  in  which  the  poor 
cattle  are  sprawling  and  tumbling.  Had  his  own  life  been 
pure,  had  his  own  daily  conduct  been  grounding  itself  on  the 
clear  pavements  or  actual  beliefs  and  veracities,  would  he  have 
let  his  Home  Offices  come  to  such  a  pass?  Not  in  Downing 
Street  only,  but  in  all  other  thoroughfares  and  arenas  and 
spiritual  or  physical  departments  of  his  existence,  running 
water  and  Herculean  scavengerism  have  become  indispensable, 
unless  the  poor  man  is  to  choke  in  his  own  exuviae,  and  die 
the  sorrowfulest  death. 

If  the  State  could  once  get  back  to  the  real  sight  of  its  es- 
sential function,  and  with  religious  resolution  begin  doing 
that,  and  putting  away  its  multifarious  imaginary  functions, 
and  indignantly  casting  out  these  as  mere  dung  and  insalu- 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


155 


"brious  horror  and  abomination  (which  they  are),  what  a  prom- 
ise of  reform  were  there  !  The  British  Home  Office,  surely 
this  and  its  kindred  Offices  exist,  if  they  will  think  of  it,  that 
life  and  work  may  continue  possible,  and  may  not  become  im- 
possible, for  British  men.  If  honourable  existence,  or  exist- 
ence on  human  terms  at  all,  have  become  impossible  for  mill- 
ions of  British  men,  how  can  the  Home  Office  or  any  other 
Office  long  exist?  With  Thirty-thousand  Needlewomen,  a 
Connaught  fallen  into  potential  cannibalism,  and  the  Idle 
Workhouse  everywhere  bursting,  and  declaring  itself  an  in- 
humanity and  stupid  ruinous  brutality  not  much  lo*nger  to  be 
tolerated  among  rational  human  creatures,  it  is  time  the  State 
were  bethinking  itself. 

So  soon  as  the  State  attacks  that  tremendous  cloaca  of  Pau- 
perism, which  will  choke  the  world  if  it  be  not  attacked,  the 
State  will  find  its  real  functions  very  different  indeed  from 
what  it  had  long  supposed  them  !  The  State  is  a  reality,  and 
not  a  dramaturgy  ;  it  exists  here  to  render  existence  possible, 
existence  desirable  and  noble,  for  the  State's  subjects.  The 
State,  as  it  gets  into  the  track  of  its  real  work,  will  find  that 
same  expand  into  whole  continents  of  new  unexpected,  most 
blessed  activity  ;  as  its  dramatic  functions,  declared  superflu- 
ous, more  and  more  fall  inert,  and  go  rushing  like  huge  torrents 
of  extinct  exuviae,  dung  and  rubbish,  down  to  the  Abyss  forever. 
O  Heaven,  to  see  a  State  that  knew  a  little  why  it  was  there, 
and  on  what  ground,  in  this  Year  1850,  it  could  pretend  to 
exist,  in  so  extremely  earnest  a  world  as  ours  is  growing  !  The 
British  State,  if  it  will  be  the  crown,  and  keystone  of  our  Brit- 
ish Social  Existence,  must  get  to  recognise,  with  a  veracity 
very  long  unknown  to  it,  what  the  real  objects  and  indisj^ensa- 
ble  necessities  of  our  Social  Existence  are.  Good  Heavens,  it 
is  not  prevenient  grace,  or  the  colour  of  the  Bishop's  night- 
mare, that  is  pinching  us  ;  it  is  the  impossibility  to  get  along 
any  farther  for  mountains  of  accumulated  dung  and  falsity 
and  horror ;  the  total  closing-up  of  noble  aims  from  every 
man, — of  any  aim  at  all,  from  many  men,  except  that  of  rot- 
ting-out  in  Idle  Workhouses  an  existence  below  that  of  beasts  ! 

Suppose  the  State  to  have  fairly  started  its  '  Industrial  Begi- 


156 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


ments  of  the  New  Era,'  which  alas,  are  yet  only  beginning  to 
be  talked  of, — what  continents  of  new  real  work  opened  out. 
for  the  Home  and  all  other  Public  Offices  among  us  !  Suppose 
the  Home  Office  looking  out,  as  for  life  and  salvation,  for  prop- 
er men  to  command  these  '  Regiments.'  Suppose  the  an- 
nouncement were  practically  made  to  all  British  souls  that  the 
want  of  wants,  more  indispensable  than  any  jewel  in  the  crown, 
was  that  of  men  able  to  command  men  in  ways  of  industrial 
and  moral  welldoing  ;  that  the  State  would  give  its  very  life 
for  such  men  ;  that  such  men  were  the  State  ;  that  the  quan- 
tity of  them  to  be  found  in  England,  lamentably  small  at  pres- 
ent, was  the  exact  measure  of  England's  worth. — what  a  new 
dawn  of  everlasting  day  for  all  British  souls  !  Noble  British 
soul,  to  whom  the  gods  have  given  faculty  and  heroism,  what 
men  call  genius,  here  at  last  is  a  career  for  thee.  It  will  not 
be  needful  now  to  swear  fealty  to  the  Incredible,  and  traitor- 
ously cramp  thyself  into  a  cowardly  canting  play-actor  in  God's 
"Universe  ;  or,  solemnly  forswearing  that,  into  a  mutinous  rebel 
and  waste  bandit  in  thy  generation  :  here  is  an  aim  that  is 
clear  and  credible,  a  course  fit  for  a  man.  No  need  to  become 
a  tormenting  and  self-tormenting  mutineer,  banded  with  rebel- 
lious souls,  if  thou  wouldst  live  ;  no  need  to  rot  in  suicidal 
idleness  ;  or  take  to  platform  preaching,  and  writing  in  Radi- 
cal Newspapers,  to  pull  asunder  the  great  Falsity  in  which 
thou  and  all  of  us  are  choking.  The  great  Falsity,  behold  it 
has  become,  in  the  very  heart  of  it,  a  great  Truth  of  Truths  ; 
and  invites  thee  and  all  brave  men  to  cooperate  with  it  in 
transforming  all  the  body  and  the  joints  into  the  noble  like- 
ness of  that  heart !  Thrice-blessed  change.  The  State  aims, 
once  more,  with  a  true  aim  ;  and  has  loadstars  in  the  eternal 
Heaven.  Struggle  faithfully  for  it  ;  noble  is  this  struggle  ; 
thou  too,  according  to  thy  faculty,  shalt  reap  in  due  time,  if 
thou  faint  not.  Thou  shalt  have  a  wise  command  of  men, 
thou  shalt  be  wisely  commanded  by  men, — the  summary 
of  all  blessedness  for  a  social  creature  here  below.  The  sore 
struggle,  never  to  be  relaxed,  and  not  forgiven  to  any  son  of 
man,  is  once  more  a  noble  one  ;  glory  to  the  Highest,  it  is  now 
once  more  a  true  and  noble  one,  wherein  a  man  can  afford  to 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


157 


die  !  Our  path  is  now  again  Heavenward.  Forward,  with 
steady  pace,  with  drawn  weapons,  and  unconquerable  hearts, 
in  the  name  of  God  that  made  us  all ! — 

Wise  obedience  and  wise  command,  I  foresee  that  the  regi- 
menting of  Pauper  Banditti  into  Soldiers  of  Industry  is  but 
the  beginning  of  this  blessed  process,  which  will  extend  to  the 
topmost  heights  of  our  Society  ;  and,  in  the  course  of  genera- 
tions, make  us  all  once  more  a  Governed  Commonwealth,  and 
Ciuilas  Dei,  if  it  please  God  !  Waste-land  Industrials  suc- 
ceeding, other  kinds  of  Industry,  as  cloth-making,  shoe-mak- 
iug,  plough-making,  spade-making,  house-building, — in  the 
end,  all  kinds  of  Industry  whatsoever,  will  be  found  capable 
of  regimenting.  Mill-operatives,  all  manner  of  free  operatives, 
as  yet  unregimented,  nomadic  under  private  masters,  they, 
seeing  such  example  and  its  blessedness,  will  say  :  "  Masters, 
you  must  regiment  us  a  little  ;  make  our  interests  with  you 
permanent  a  little,  instead  of  temporary  and  nomadic ;  we 
will  enlist  with  the  State  otherwise  ! "  This  will  go  on,  on 
the  one  hand,  while  the  State-operation  goes  on,  on  the  other  : 
thus  will  all  Masters  of  Workmen,  private  Captains  of  Indus- 
try, be  forced  to  incessantly  cooperate  with  the  State  and  its 
public  Captains  ;  they  regimenting  in  their  way,  the  State  in 
its  way,  with  ever-widening  field  ;  till  their  fields  meet  (so  to 
speak)  and  coalesce,  and  there  be  no  regimented  worker,  or 
such  only  as  are  fit  to  remain  unregimented,  any  more. — O 
my  friends,  I  clearly  perceive  this  horrible  cloaca  of  Pauper- 
ism,wearing  nearly  bottomless  now,  is  the  point  where  we  must 
begin.  Here,  in  this  plainly  unendurable  portion  of  the  gen- 
eral quagmire,  the  lowest  point  of  all,  and  hateful  even  to 
M'Croudy,  must  our  main  drain  begin  :  steadily  prosecuting 
that,  tearing  that  along  with  Herculean  labour  and  divine 
fidelity,  we  shall  gradually  drain  the  entire  Stygian  swamp, 
and  make  it  all  once  more  a  fruitful  field  ! 

For  the  State,  I  perceive,  looking  out  with  right  sacred 
earnestness  for  persons  able  to  command,  will  straightway  also 
come  upon  the  question  :  "  What  kind  of  schools  and  semi- 
naries, and  teaching  and  also  preaching  establishments  have  I, 
for  the  training  of  young  souls  to  take  command  and  to  yield 


158 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


obedience  ?  Wise  command,  wise  obedience  :  the  capability 
of  these  two  is  the  net  measure  of  culture,  and  human  virtue, 
in  every  man  ;  all  good  lies  in  the  possession  of  these  two  capa- 
bilities ;  all  evil,  wretchedness  and  ill-success  in  the  want  of 
these.  He  is  a  good  man  that  can  command  and  obey  ;  he 
that  cannot  is  a  bad.  If  my  teachers  and  my  preachers,  with 
their  seminaries,  high  schools  and  cathedrals,  do  train  men  to 
these  gifts,  the  thing  they  are  teaching  and  preaching  must 
be  true  ;  if  they  do  not,  not  true  !  " 

The  State,  once  brought  to  its  veracities  by  the  thumbscrew 
in  this  manner,  what  will  it  think  of  these  same  seminaries 
and  cathedrals  !  I  foresee  that  our  Etons  and  Oxfords  with 
their  nonsense-verses,  college-logics,  and  broken  crumbs  of 
mere  sjjeech, — which  is  not  even  English  or  Teutonic  speech, 
but  old  Grecian  and  Italian  speech,  dead  and  buried  and 
much  lying  out  of  our  way  these  two  thousand  years  last  past, 
■ — will  be  found  a  most  astonishing  seminary  for  the  training 
of  young  English  souls  to  take  command  in  human  Industries, 
and  act  a  valiant  part  under  the  sun !  The  State  does  not 
want  vocables,  but  manly  wisdoms  and  virtues  :  the  State, 
does  it  want  parliamentary  orators,  first  of  all,  and  men  capa- 
ble of  writing  books?  What  a  ragfair  of  extinct  monkeries, 
high-piled  here  in  the  very  shrine  of  our  existence,  fit  to  smite 
the  generations  with  atrophy  and  beggarly  paralysis, — as  we 
see  it  do  !  The  Minister  of  Education  will  not  want  for  work, 
I  think,  in  the  New  Downing  Street ! 

How  it  will  go  with  Souls'-Overseers,  and  what  the  new  kind 
will  be,  we  do  not  prophesy  just  now.  Clear  it  is,  however, 
that  the  last  finish  of  the  State's  efforts,  in  this  operation  of 
regimenting,  will  be  to  get  the  true  Souls'-Overseers  set  over 
men's  souls,  to  regiment,  as  the  consummate  flower  of  all,  and 
constitute  into  some  Sacred  Corporation,  bearing  authority 
and  dignity  in  their  generation,  the  Chosen  of  the  Wise,  of 
the  Spiritual  and  Devout-minded,  the  Eeverent  who  deserve 
reverence,  who  arc  as  the  Salt  of  the  Earth  ; — that  not  till  this 
is  done  can  tin;  State  consider  its  edifice  to  have  reached  the 
first  story,  to  be  safe  for  a  moment,  to  be  other  than  an  arch 
without  the  keystones,  and  supported  hitherto  on  mere  wood. 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


159 


How  will  this  be  done  ?  Ask  not  ;  let  the  second  or  the  third 
generation  after  this  begin  to  ask  !  Alas,  wise  men  do  exist, 
born  duly  into  the  world  in  every  current  generation  ;  but 
the  getting  of  them  regimented  is  the  highest  pitch  of  human 
Polity,  and  the  feat  of  all  feats  in  political  engineering  : — im- 
possible for  us,  in  this  poor  age,  as  the  building  of  St.  Paul's 
would  be  for  Canadian  Beavers,  acquainted  only  with  the 
architecture  of  fish-dams,  and  with  no  trowel  but  their  tail.  • 

Literature,  the  strange  entity  so-called, — that  indeed  is 
here.  If  Literature  continue  to  be  the  haven  of  expatriated 
spiritualisms,  and  have  its  Johnsons,  Goethes  and  true  Arch- 
bishops of  the  World,  to  show  for  itself  as  heretofore,  there 
may  be  hope  in  Literature.  If  Literature  dwindle,  as  is  prob- 
able, into  mere  merry-andrewism,  windy  twaddle,  and  feats  of 
spiritual  legerdemain,  analogous  to  rope-dancing,  opera-danc- 
ing, and  street-fiddling  with  a  hat  carried  round  for  halfpence 
or  for  guineas,  there  will  be  no  hope  in  Literature.  What  if 
our  next  set  of  Souls'-Overseers  were  to  be  silent  ones  very 

mainly  ?  Alas,  alas,  why  gaze  into  the  blessed  continents 

and  delectable  mountains  of  a  Future  based  on  truth,  while  as 
yet  we  struggle  far  down,  nigh  suffocated  in  a  slough  of  lies, 
uncertain  whether  or  how  we  shall  be  able  to  climb  at  all  !— 

Who  will  begin  the  long  steep  journey  with  us  ;  who  of  liv- 
ing statesmen  will  snatch  the  standard,  and  say,  like  a  hero 
on  the  forlorn-hope  for  his  country,  Forward !  Or  is  there 
none  ;  no  one  that  can  and  dare  ?  And  our  lot  too,  then,  is 
Anarchy  by  barricade  or  ballot-box,  and  Social  Death  ? — WTe 
will  not  think  so. 

Whether  Sir  Eobert  Peel  will  undertake  the  Eeform  of 
Downing  Street  for  us,  or  any  Ministry  or  Reform  farther,  is 
not  known.  He,  they  say,  is  getting  old,  does  himself  recoil 
from  it,  and  shudder  at  it  ;  which  is  possible  enough.  The 
clubs  and  coteries  appear  to  have  settled  that  he  surely  will 
not  ;  that  this  melancholy  wriggling  seesaw  of  redtape  Trojans 
and  Protectionist  Greeks  must  continue  its  course  till — what 
can  happen,  my  friends,  if  this  go  on  continuing  ? 


160 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


And  yet,  perhaps,  England  has  by  no  means  so  settled  it. 
Quit  the  clubs  and  coteries,  you  do  not  hear  two  rational  men 
speak  long  together  upon  politics,  without  pointing  their  in- 
quiries towards  this  man.  A  Minister  that  will  attack  the 
Augias  Stable  of  Downing  Street,  and  begin  producing  a  real 
Management,  no  longer  an  imaginary  one,  of  our  affairs  ;  he, 
or  else  in  few  years  Chartist  Parliament  and  the  Deluge  come  : 
that  seems  the  alternative.  As  I  read  the  omens,  there  was 
no  man  in  my  time  more  authentically  called  to  a  post  of  dif- 
ficulty, of  danger,  and  of  honour  than  this  man.  The  enter- 
prise is  ready  for  him,  if  he  is  ready  for  it.  He  has  but  to 
lift  his  finger  in  this  enterprise,  and  whatsoever  is  wise  and 
manful  in  England  will  rally  round  him.  If  the  faculty  and 
heart  for  it  be  in  him,  he,  strangely  and  almost  tragically  if 
we  look  upon  his  history,  is  to  have  leave  to  try  it ;  he  now, 
at  the  eleventh  hour,  has  the  opportunity  for  such  a  feat  in 
reform  as  has  not,  in  these  late  generations,  been  attempted 
by  all  our  reformers  put  together. 

As  for  Protectionist  jargon,  who  in  these  earnest  days  would 
occupy  many  moments  of  his  time  with  that  ?  £A  Costermon- 
ger  in  this  street,'  says  Crabbe,  '  finding  lately  that  his  rope  of 
onions,  which  he  hoped  would  have  brought  a  shilling,  was 
to  go  for  only  sevenpence  henceforth,  burst  forth  into  lamen- 
tation, execration  and  the  most  pathetic  tears.  Throwing  up 
the  window,  I  perceived  the  other  costermongers  preparing 
impatiently  to  pack  this  one  out  of  their  company  as  a  dis- 
grace to  it,  if  he  would  not  hold  his  peace  and  take  the  mar- 
ket rate  for  his  onions.  I  looked  better  at  this  Costermonger. 
To  my  astonished  imagination,  a  star-and-garter  dawned  upon 
the  dim  figure  of  the  man  ;  and  I  perceived  that  here  was  no 
Costermonger  to  be  expelled  with  ignominy,  but  a  sublime 
goddess-born  Ducal  Individual,  whom  I  forbear  to  name  at 
this  moment !  What  an  omen  ; — nay  to  my  astonished  imag- 
ination, there  dawned  still  fataler  omens.  Surely,  of  all  hu- 
man trades  ever  heard  of,  the  trade  of  Owning  Land  in  England 
ought  not  to  bully  us  for  drinkmoney  just  now  ! ' — 

'Hansard's  Debates,'  continues  Crabbe  farther  on,  'present 
many  inconsistencies  of  speech  ;  lamentable  unveracities  ut* 


STUMP-  OR  A  TOR. 


161 


tered  in  Parliament,  by  one  and  indeed  by  all ;  in  which  sad 
list  Sir  Robert  Peel  stands  for  his  share  among  others.  Un- 
veracities  not  a  few  were  spoken  in  Parliament ;  in  fact,  to 
one  with  a  sense  of  what  is  called  God's  truth,  it  seemed  all 
one  unveracity,  a  talking  from  the  teeth  outward,  not  as  the 
convictions  but  as  the  expediencies  and  inward  astucities  di- 
rected ;  and,  in  the  sense  of  God's  truth,  I  have  heard  no  true 
word  uttered  in  Parliament  at  all.  Most  lamentable  unverac- 
ities  continually  spoken  in  Parliament,  by  almost  every  one 
that  had  to  open  his  mouth  there.  But  the  largest  veracity 
ever  done  in  Parliament  in  our  time,  as  we  all  know,  was  of 
this  man's  doing  ; — and  that,  you  will  find,  is  a  very  consider- 
able item  in  the  calculation  ! ' 

Yes,  and  I  believe  England  in  her  dumb  way,  remembers 
that  too.  And  '  the  Traitor  Peel '  can  very  well  afford  to  let 
innumerable  Ducal  Costermongers,  parliamentary  Adventu- 
rers, and  lineal  representatives  of  the  Impenitent  Thief,  say  all 
their  say  about  him,  and  do  all  their  do.  With  a  virtual 
England  at  his  back,  and  an  actual  eternal  sky  above  him, 
there  is  not  much  in  the  total  net-amount  of  that.  When  the 
master  of  the  horse  rides  abroad,  many  dogs  in  the  village 
bark  :  but  he  pursues  his  journey  all  the  same. 


No.  V.  STUMP-OKATOE. 

[1st  May  1850.] 

It  lies  deep  in  our  habits,  confirmed  by  all  manner  of  educa- 
tional and  other  arrangements  for  several  centuries  back,  to 
consider  human  talent  as  best  of  all  evincing  itself  by  the 
faculty  of  eloquent  speech.  Our  earliest  schoolmasters  teach 
us,  as  the  one  gift  of  culture  they  have,  the  art  of  spelling  and 
pronouncing,  the  rules  of  correct  speech  ;  rhetorics,  logics 
follow,  sublime  mysteries  of  grammar,  whereby  we  may  not 
only  speak  but  write.  And  onward  to  the'  last  of  our 
schoolmasters  in  the  highest  university,  it  is  still  intrinsi- 
11 


162 


LATTER- DA  Y  PAMPHLETS. 


cally  grammar,  under  various  figures  grammar.  To  speak 
in  "various  languages,  on  various  things,  but  on  all  of  them 
to  speak,  and  appropriately  deliver  ourselves  by  tongue  or 
pen, —  this  is  the  sublime  goal  towards  which  all  man- 
ner of  beneficent  ju'eceptors  and  learned  professors,  from 
the  lowest  hornbook  upwards,  are  continually  urging  and 
guiding  us.  Preceptor  or  professor,  looking  over  his  miracu- 
lous seedplot,  seminary  as  he  well  calls  it,  or  crop  of  young 
human  souls,  watches  with  attentive  view  one  organ  of  his 
delightful  little  seedlings  growing  to  be  men, — the  tongue. 
He  hopes  we  shall  all  get  to  speak  yet,  if  it  please  Heaven. 
"  Some  of  you  shall  be  book- writers,  eloquent  review- writers, 
and  astonish  mankind,  my  young  friends  :  others  in  white 
neckcloths  shall  do  sermons  by  Blair  and  Lindley  Murray, 
nay  by  Jeremy  Taylor  and  judicious  Hooker,  and  be  priests 
to  guide  men  heavenward  by  skilfully  brandished  handker- 
chief and  the  torch  of  rhetoric.  For  others  there  is  Parlia- 
ment and  the  election  beerbarrel,  and  a  course  that  leads  men 
very  high  indeed  ;  these  shall  shake  the  senate-house,  the 
Morning  Newspapers,  shake  the  very  spheres,  and  by  dex- 
trous wagging  of  the  tongue  disenthral  mankind,  and  lead 
our  afflicted  country  and  us  on  the  way  we  are  to  go.  The 
way  if  not  where  noble  deeds  are  done,  yet  where  noble  words 
are  sj^oken,— leading  us  if  not  to  the  real  Home  of  the  Gods, 
at  least  to  something  which  shall  more  or  less  deceptively 
resemble  it !  " 

So  fares  it  with  the  son  of  Adam,  in  these  bewildered 
epochs  ;  so,  from  the  first  opening  of  his  eyes  in  this  world, 
to  his  last  closing  of  them,  and  departure  hence.  Speak, 
speak,  O  speak  ; — if  thou  have  any  faculty,  speak  it,  or  thou 
diest  and  it  is  no  faculty  !  So  in  universities,  and  all  manner 
of  dames'  and  other  schools,  of  the  very  highest  class  as  of 
the  very  lowest  ;  and  Society  at  large,  when  we  enter  there, 
confirms  with  all  its  brilliant  review-articles,  successful  pub- 
lications, intellectual  tea-circles,  literary  gazettes,  parliamen- 
tary eloquences,  the  grand  lesson  we  had.  Other  lesson  in 
fact  we  have  none,  in  these  times.  If  there  be  a  human  talent, 
let  it  get  into  the  tongue,  and  make  melody  with  that  organ. 


STUMP- ORATOR 


163 


The  talent  that  can  say  nothing  for  itself,  what  is  it  ?  Noth- 
ing ;  or  a  thing  that  can  do  mere  drudgeries,  and  at  best 
make  money  by  railways. 

All  this  is  deep-rooted  in  our  habits,  in  our  social,  educa- 
tional and  other  arrangements  ;  and  all  this,  when  we  look  at 
it  impartially,  is  astonishing.  Directly  in  the  teeth  of  all 
this  it  may  be  asserted  that  speaking  is  by  no  means  the 
chief  faculty  a  human  being  can  attain  to  ;  that  his  excellence 
therein  is  by  no  means  the  best  test  of  his  general  human  ex- 
cellence, or  availability  in  this  world  ;  nay  that,  unless  we  look 
well,  it  is  liable  to  become  the  very  worst  test  ever  devised 
for  said  availability.  The  matter  extends  very  far,  down  to 
the  very  roots  of  the  world,  whither  the  British  reader  can- 
not conveniently  follow  me  just  now  ;  but  I  will  venture  to 
assert  the  three  following  things,  and  invite  him  to  consider 
well  what  truth  he  can  gradually  find  in  them  : 

First,  that  excellent  speech,  even  speech  really  excellent,  is 
not,  and  never  was,  the  chief  test  of  human  faculty,  or  the 
measure  of  a  man's  ability,  for  any  true  function  whatsoever  ; 
on  the  contrary,  that  excellent  silence  needed  always  to  ac- 
company excellent  speech,  and  was  and  is  a  much  rarer  and 
more  difiicult  gift. 

Secondly,  that  really  excellent  speech, — which  I,  being  pos- 
sessed of  the  Hebrew  Bible  or  Book,  as  well  as  of  other 
books  in  my  own  and  foreign  languages,  and  having  occasion- 
ally heard  a  wise  man's  word  among  the  crowd  of  unwise,  do 
almost  unspeakably  esteem,  as  a  human  gift, — is  terribly  apt 
to  get  confounded  with  its  counterfeit,  sham-excellent  speech  ! 
And  furthermore,  that  if  really  excellent  human  speech  is 
among  the  best  of  human  things,  then  sham-excellent  ditto 
deserves  to  be  ranked  with  the  very  worst.  False  speech, — 
capable  of  becoming,  as  some  one  has  said,  the  falsest  and 
basest  ot  all  human  things  : — put  the  case,  one  were  listening 
to  that  as  to  the  truest  and  noblest !  Which,  little  as  we  are 
conscious  of  it,  I  take  to  be  the  sad  lot  of  many  excellent 
souls  among  us  just  now.  So  many  as  admire  parliamentary 
eloquence,  divine  popular  literature,  and  suchlike,  are  dread- 
fully liable  to  it  just  now  :  and  whole  nations  and  generations 


164: 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


seem  as  if  getting  themselves  asphyxiated,  constitutionally, 
into  their  last  sleep,  by  means  of  it  just  now  ! 

For  alas,  much  as  we  worship  speech  on  all  hands,  here  is 
a  third  assertion  which  a  man  may  venture  to  make,  and  in- 
vite considerate  men  to  reflect  upon  :  That  in  these  times, 
and  for  several  generations  back,  there  has  been,  strictly  con- 
sidered, no  really  excellent  speech  at  all,  but  sham-excellent 
merely  ;  that  is  to  say,  false  or  quasi-false  speech  getting  it- 
self admired  and  worshipped,  instead  of  detested  and  sup- 
pressed. A  truly  alarming  predicament  ;  and  not  the  less  so 
if  we  find  it  a  quite  pleasant  one  for  the  time  being,  and  wel- 
come the  advent  of  asphyxia,  as  we  would  that  of  comfortable 
natural  sleep  ; — as,  in  so  many  senses,  we  are  doing  !  Surely 
judges  there  have  been  who  did  not  much  admire  the  'Bible 
of  Modern  Literature,'  or  anything  you  could  distil  from  it,  in 
contrast  with  the  ancient  Bibles  ;  and  found  that  in  the  mat- 
ter of  speaking,  our  far  best  excellence,  where  that  could  be 
obtained,  was  excellent  silence,  which  means  endurance  and 
exerlion,  and  good  work  with  lips  closed  ;  and  that  our  toler- 
ablest  speech  was  of  the  nature  of  honest  commonplace  intro- 
duced where  indispensable,  which  only  set-up  for  being  brief 
and  true,  and  could  not  be  mistaken  for  excellent. 

These  are  hard  sayings  for  many  a  British  reader,  uncon- 
scious of  any  damage,  nay  joyfully  conscious  to  himself  of 
much  profit,  from  that  side  of  his  possessions.  Surely  on 
this  side,  if  on  no  other,  matters  stood  not  ill  with  him  ?  The 
ingenuous  arts  had  softened  his  manners  ;  the  parliamen- 
tary eloquences  supplied  him  with  a  succedaneum  for  govern- 
ment, the  popular  literatures  with  the  finer  sensibilities  of 
the  heart :  surely  on  this  windward  side  of  things  the  British 
reader  was  not  ill  off?  — Unhappy  British  reader  ! 

In  fact,  the  spiritual  detriment  we  unconsciously  suffer,  in 
every  province  of  our  affairs,  from  this  our  prostrate  respect 
to  power  of  speech  is  incalculable.  For  indeed  it  is  the  nat- 
ural consummation  of  an  epoch  such  as  ours.  Given  a  general 
insincerity  of  mind  for  several  generations,  you  will  certainly 
find  the  Talker  established  in  the  place  of  honour  ;  and  the 
Doer,  hidden  in  the  obscure  crowd,  with  activity  lamed,  or 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


105 


working  sorrowfully  forward  on  paths  unworthy  of  him.  All 
men  are  devoutly  prostrate,  worshipping  the  eloquent  talker  ; 
and  no  man  knows  what  a  scandalous  idol  he  is.  Out  of  whom 
in  the  mildest  manner,  like  comfortable  natural  rest,  comes 
mere  asphyxia  and  death  everlasting  !  Probably  there  is  not 
in  Nature  a  more  distracted  phantasm  than  your  commonplace 
eloquent  speaker,  as  he  is  found  on  platforms,  in  parliaments, 
on  Kentucky  stumps,  at  tavern-dinners,  in  windy,  empty,  in- 
sincere times  like  ours.  The  '  excellent  Stump-Orator,'  as  our 
admiring  Yankee  friends  define  him,  he  who  in  any  occurrent 
set  of  circumstances  can  start  forth,  mount  upon  his  '  stump,5 
his  rostrum,  tribune,  place  in  Parliament,  or  other  ready  ele- 
vation, and  pour  forth  from  him  his  appropriate  'excellent 
speech,'  his  interpretation  of  the  said  circumstances,  in  such 
manner  as  poor  windy  mortals  round  him  shall  cry  bravo  to, 
— he  is  not  an  artist  I  can  much  admire,  as  matters  go  !  Alas, 
he  is  in  general  merely  the  windiest  mortal  of  them  all ;  and 
is  admired  for  being  so,  into  the  bargain.  Not  a  windy  block- 
head there  who  kept  silent  but  is  better  off  than  this  excellent 
stump-orator.  Better  off,  for  a  great  many  reasons  ;  for  this 
reason,  were  there  no  other :  the  silent  one  is  not  admired  ; 
the  silent  suspects,  perhaps  partly  admits,  that  he  is  a  kind  of 
blockhead,  from  which  salutary  self-knowledge  the  excellent 
stump-orator  is  debarred.  A  mouthpiece  of  Chaos  to  poor 
benighted  mortals  that  lend  ear  to  him  as  to  a  voice  from  Cos- 
mos, this  excellent  stump-orator  fills  me  with  amazement.  Not 
empty  these  musical  wind-utterances  of  his  ;  they  are  big 
with  prophecy  ;  they  announce,  too  audibly  to  me,  that  the 
end  of  many  things  is  drawing  nigh  ! 

Let  the  British  reader  consider  it  a  little  ;  he  too  is  not  a 
little  interested  in  it.  Nay  he,  and  the  European  reader  in 
general,  but  he  chiefly  in  these  days,  will  require  to  consider 
it  a  great  deal, — and  to  take  important  steps  in  consequence 
by  and  by,  if  I  mistake  not.  And  in  the  mean  while,  sunk  as 
he  himself  is  in  that  bad  element,  and  like  a  jaundiced  man 
struggling  to  discriminate  yellow  colours, — he  will  have  to 
meditate  long  before  he  in  any  measure  get  the  immense 
meanings  of  the  thing  brought  home  to  him  ;  and  discern, 


166 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


with  astonishment,  alarm,  and  almost  terror  and  despair,  to- 
wards what  fatal  issues,  in  our  Collective  Wisdom  and  else- 
where, this  notion  of  talent  meaning  eloquent  speech,  so  ob- 
stinately entertained  this  long  while,  has  been  leading  us  ! 
Whosoever  shall  look  well  into  origins  and  issues,  will  find  this 
of  eloquence  and  the  part  it  now  plays  in  our  affairs,  to  be  one 
of  the  gravest  phenomena  ;  and  the  excellent  stump-orator  ol 
these  days  to  be  not  only  a  ridiculous  but  still  more  a  highly 
tragical  personage.  While  the  many  listen  to  him,  the  few  are 
used  to  pass  rapidly,  with  some  gust  of  scornful  laughter, 
some  growl  of  impatient  malediction  ;  but  he  deserves  from 
this  latter  class  a  much  more  serious  attention. 

In  the  old  Ages,  when  Universities  and  Schools  were  first 
instituted,  this  function  of  the  schoolmaster,  to  teach  mepe 
speaking,  was  the  natural  one.  In  those  healthy  times,  guided 
by  silent  instincts  and  the  monition  of  Nature,  men  had  from 
of  old  been  used  to  teach  themselves  what  it  was  essential  to 
learn,  by  the  one  sure  method  of  learning  anything,  practical 
apprenticeship  to  it.  This  was  the  rule  for  all  classes  ;  as  it 
now  is  the  rule,  unluckily,  for  only  one  class.  The  Working 
Man  as  yet  sought  only  to  know  his  craft ;  and  educated  him- 
self sufficiently  by  ploughing  and  hammering,  under  the  con- 
ditions given,  and  in  fit  relation  to  the  persons  given  :  a  course 
of  education,  then  as  now  and  ever,  really  opulent  in  manful 
culture  and  instruction  to  him  ;  teaching  him  many  solid  virt- 
ues, and  most  indubitably  useful  knowledges  ;  developing  in 
him  valuable  faculties  not  a  few  both  to  do  and  to  endure, — 
among  which  the  faculty  of  elaborate  grammatical  utterance, 
seeing  he  had  so  little  of  extraordinary  to  utter,  or  to  learn 
from  spoken  or  written  utterances,  was  not  bargained  for  ;  tho 
grammar  of  Nature,  which  he  learned  from  his  mother,  being 
still  amply  sufficient  for  him.  This  was,  as  it  still  is,  the 
grand  education  of  the  Working  Man. 

As  for  the  Priest,  though  his  trade  was  clearly  of  a  reading 
and  speaking  nature,  he  knew  also  in  those  veracious  times 
that  grammar,  if  needful,  was  by  no  means  the  one  thing 
needful,  or  the  chief  thing.    By  far  the  chief  thing  needful 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


167 


and  indeed  the  one  thing  then  as  now,  was,  That  there  should 
be  in  him  the  feeling  and  the  practice  of  reverence  to  God 
and  to  men  ;  that  in  his  life's  core  there  should  dwell,  spoken 
or  silent,  a  ray  of  pious  wisdom  fit  for  illuminating  dark  hu- 
man destinies  ; — not  so  much  that  he  should  possess  the  art 
of  speech,  as  that  he  should  have  something  to  speak  !  And 
for  that  latter  requisite  the  Priest  also  trained  himself  by  ap- 
prenticeship, by  actual  attempt  to  practise,  by  manifold  long- 
continued  trial,  of  a  devout  and  painful  nature,  such  as  his 
superiors  prescribed  to  him.  This,  when  once  judged  satis- 
factory, procured  him  ordination  ;  and  his  grammar-learning, 
in  the  good  times  of  priesthood,  was  very  much  of  a  parergon 
with  him,  as  indeed  in  all  times  it  is  intrinsically  quite  insig- 
nificant in  comparison. 

The  young  Noble  again,  for  whom  grammar  schoolmasters 
were  first  hired  and  high  seminaries  founded,  he  too  without 
these,  or  over  and  above  these,  had  from  immemorial  time 
been  used  to  learn  his  business  by  apprenticeship.  The  young- 
Noble,  before  the  schoolmaster  as  after  him,  went  apprentice 
to  some  elder  noble  ;  entered  himself  as  page  with  some  dis- 
tinguished earl  or  duke  ;  and  here,  serving  upwards  from  step 
to  step,  under  wise  monition,  learned  his  chivalries,  his  prac- 
tice of  arms  and  of  courtesies,  his  baronial  duties  and  manners, 
and  what  it  would  beseem  him  to  do  and  to  be  in  the  world, 
— by  practical  attempt  of  his  own,  and  example  of  one  whose 
life  was  a  daily  concrete  pattern  for  him.  To  such  a  one,  al- 
ready filled  with  intellectual  substance,  and  possessing  what 
we  may  call  the  practical  gold-bullion  of  human  culture,  it  was 
an  obvious  improvement  that  he  should  be  taught  to  speak  it 
out  of  him  on  occasion  ;  that  he  should  carry  a  spiritual  bank- 
note producible  on  demand  for  what  of  '  gold-bullion '  he  had, 
not  so  negotiable  otherwise,  stored  in  the  cellars  of  his  mind. 
A  man,  with  wisdom,  insight  and  heroic  worth  already  ac- 
quired for  him,  naturally  demanded  of  the  schoolmaster  this 
one  new  faculty,  the  faculty  of  uttering  in  fit  words  what  he 
had.  A  valuable  super-addition  of  faculty  : — and  yet  we  are 
to  remember  it  was  scarcely  a  new  faculty  ;  it  was  but  the 
tangible  sign  of  what  other  faculties  the  man  had  in  the  silent 


168 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


state  :  and  many  a  rugged  inarticulate  chief  of  men,  I  can  be- 
lieve, was  most  enviably  '  educated,'  who  had  not  a  Book  on 
his  premises  ;  whose  signature,  a  true  sign-manual,  was  the 
stamp  of  his  iron  hand  duly  inked  and  clapt  upon  the  parch- 
ment ;  and  whose  speech  in  Parliament,  like  the  growl  of 
lions,  did  indeed  convey  his  meaning,  but  would  have  torn 
Lindley  Murray's  nerves  to  pieces  !  To  such  a  one  the  school- 
master adjusted  himself  very  naturally  in  that  manner  ;  as  a 
man  wanted  for  teaching  grammatical  utterance  ;  the  thing 
to  utter  being  already  there.  The  thing  to  utter,  here  was 
the  grand  point !  And  perhaps  this  is  the  reason  why  among 
earnest  nations,  as  among  the  Romans  for  example,  the  craft 
of  the  schoolmaster  was  held  in  little  regard ;  for  indeed  as 
mere  teacher  of  grammar,  of  ciphering  on  the  abacus  and 
suchlike,  how  did  he  differ  much  from  the  dancing-master  or 
fencing-master,  or  deserve  much  regard  ? — Such  was  the  rule 
in  the  ancient  healthy  times. 

Can  it  be  doubtful  that  this  is  still  the  rule  of  human  edu- 
cation ;  that  the  human  creature  needs  first  of  all  to  be  edu- 
cated not  that  he  may  speak,  but  that  he  may  have  something 
weighty  and  valuable  to  say  !  If  speech  is  the  banknote  for 
an  inward  capital  of  culture,  of  insight  and  noble  human 
worth,  then  speech  is  precious,  and  the  art  of  speech  shall  be 
honoured.  But  if  there  is  no  inward  capital ;  if  speech  rep- 
resent no  real  culture  of  the  mind,  but  an  imaginary  culture  ; 
no  bullion,  but  the  fatal  and  now  almost  hopeless  deficit  of 
such  ?  Alas,  alas,  said  banknote  is  then  a  forged  one  ;  pass- 
ing freely  current  in  the  market ;  but  bringing  damages  to  the 
receiver,  to  the  payer,  and  to  all  the  world,  which  are  in  sad 
truth  infallible,  and  of  amount  incalculable.  Few  think  of  it 
at  present ;  but  the  truth  remains  forever  so.  In  parliaments 
and  other  loud  assemblages,  your  eloquent  talk,  disunited 
from  Nature  and  her  facts,  is  taken  as  wisdom  and  the  cor- 
rect image  of  said  facts :  but  Nature  well  knows  what  it  is, 
Nature  will  not  have  it  as  such,  and  will  reject  your  forged 
note  one  day,  with  huge  costs.  The  foolish  traders  in  the 
market  pass  it  freely,  nothing  doubting,  and  rejoice  in  the 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


169 


dextrous  execution  of  the  piece  :  and  so  it  circulates  from 
hand  to  hand,  and  from  class  to  class  ;  gravitating  ever  down- 
wards towards  the  practical  class  ;  till  at  last  it  reaches  some 
poor  working  hand,  who  can  pass  it  no  farther,  but  must  take 
it  to  the  bank  to  get  bread  with  it,  and  there  the  answer  is, 
"Unhappy  caitiff,  this  note  is  forged.  It  does  not  mean  per- 
formance and  reality,  in  parliaments  and  elsewhere,  for  thy 
behoof ;  it  means  fallacious  semblance  of  performance  ;  and 
thou,  poor  dupe,  art  thrown  into  the  stocks  on  offering  it 
here  ! " 

Alas,  alas,  looking  abroad  over  Irish  difficulties,  Mosaic 
sweating-establishments,  French  barricades,  and  an  anarchic 
Europe,  is  it  not  as  if  all  the  populations  of  the  world  were 
rising  or  had  risen  into  incendiary  madness  ;  unable  longer 
to  endure  such  an  avalanche  of  forgeries,  and  of  penalties  in 
consequence,  as  had  accumulated  upon  them  ?  The  speaker 
is  c  excellent  ; '  the  notes  he  does  are  beautiful  ?  Beautifully 
fit  for  the  market,  yes  ;  he  is  an  excellent  artist  in  his  busi- 
ness ; — and  the  more  excellent  he  is,  the  more  is  my  desire 
to  lay  him  by  the  heels,  and  fling  him  into  the  treadmill, 
that  I  might  save  the  poor  sweating  tailors,  French  Sanscul- 
ottes, and  Irish  Sanspotatoes  from  bearing  the  smart ! 

For  the  smart  must  be  borne  ;  some  one  must  bear  it,  as 
sure  as  God  lives.  Every  word  of  man  is  either  a  note  or  a 
forged-note  : — have  these  eternal  skies  forgotten  to  be  in 
earnest,  think  you,  because  men  go  grinning  like  enchanted 
apes  ?  Foolish  souls,  this  now  as  of  old  is  the  unalterable 
law  of  your  existence.  If  you  know  the  truth  and  do  it,  the 
Universe  itself  seconds  you,  bears  you  on  to  sure  victory  ev- 
erywhere : — and,  observe,  to  sure  defeat  everywhere  if  you  do 
not  do  the  truth.  And  alas,  if  you  know  only  the  eloquent 
fallacious  semblance  of  the  truth,  what  chance  is  there  of 
your  ever  doing  it  ?  You  will  do  something  very  different 
from  it,  I  think  ! — He  who  well  considers,  will  find  this  same 
'  art  of  speech,'  as  we  moderns  have  it,  to  be  a  truly  astonish- 
ing product  of  the  Ages  ;  and  the  longer  he  considers  it,  the 
more  astonishing  and  alarming.  I  reckon  it  the  saddest  of 
all  the  curses  that  now  lie  heavy  on  us.    With  horror  and 


170 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


amazement,  one  perceives  that  this  much-celebrated  ( art,'  so 
diligently  practised  in  all  corners  of  the  world  just  now,  is 
the  chief  destroyer  of  whatever  good  is  born  to  us  (softly, 
swiftly  shutting-up  all  nascent  good,  as  if  under  exhausted 
glass-receivers,  there  to  choke  and  die)  ;  and  the  grand 
parent-manufactory  of  evil  to  us, — as  it  were,  the  last  finish- 
ing and  varnishing  workshop  of  all  the  Devil's  ware  that  cir- 
culates under  the  sun.  No  Devil's  sham  is  fit  for  the  market 
till  it  have  been  polished  and  enamelled  here  ;  this  is  the 
general  assaying-house  for  such,  where  the  artists  examine 
and  answer,  "Fit  for  the  market;  not  fit!"  Words  will 
not  express  what  mischiefs  the  misuse  of  words  has  done,  and 
is  doing,  in  these  heavyladen  generations. 

Do  you  want  a  man  not  to  practise  what  he  believes,  then 
encourage  him  to  keep  often  speaking  it  in  words.  Every 
time  he  speaks  it,  the  tendency  to  do  it  will  grow  less.  His 
empty  speech  of  what  he  believes,  will  be  a  weariness  and  an 
affliction  to  the  wise  man.  But  do  you  wish  his  empty  speech 
of  what  he  believes,  to  become  farther  an  insincere  speech  of 
what  he  does  not  believe  ?  Celebrate  to  him  his  gift  of  speech  : 
assure  him  that  he  shall  rise  in  Parliament  by  means  of  it, 
and  achieve  great  things  without  any  performance  ;  that  elo- 
quent speech,  whether  performed  or  not,  is  admirable.  My 
friends,  eloquent  unperformed  speech,  in  Parliament  or  else- 
where, is  horrible  !  The  eloquent  man  that  delivers,  in  Par- 
liament or  elsewhere,  a  beautiful  speech,  and  will  perform 
nothing  of  it,  but  leaves  it  as  if  already  performed, — what  can 
you  make  of  that  man  ?  He  has  enrolled  himself  among  the 
Ignes  Fatui  and  Children  of  the  Wind  ;  means  to  serve,  as 
beautifully  illuminated  Chinese  Lantern^  in  that  corps  hence- 
forth. I  think,  the  serviceable  thing  you  could  do  to  that  man, 
if  permissible,  would  be  a  severe  one  :  To  clip-off  a  bit  of  his 
eloquent  tongue  by  way  of  penance  and  warning  ;  another  bit, 
if  he  again  spoke  without  performing  ;  and  so  again,  till  you 
had  clipt  the  whole  tongue  away  from  him, — and  were  deliv- 
ered, you  and  he,  from  at  least  one  miserable  mockery  . 
"  There,  eloquent  friend,  see  now  in  silence  if  there  be  any 
redeeming  deed  in  thee  ;  of  blasphemous  wind-eloquence,  at 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


171 


least,  we  shall  have  no  more  !  "  How  man}'  pretty  men  have 
gone  this  road,  escorted  by  the  beautifulest  marching  music 
from  all  the  'public  organs  ;'  and  have  found  at  last  that  it 
ended — where?  It  is  the  broad  road,  that  leads  direct  to 
Limbo  and  the  Kingdom  of  the  Inane.  Gifted  men,  and 
once  valiant  nations,  and  as  it  were  the  whole  world  with  one 
accord,  are  marching  thither,  in  melodious  triumph,  all  the 
drums  and  hautboys  giving  out  their  cheerfulest  Qa-ira.  It 
is  the  universal  humour  of  the  world  just  now.  My  friends, 
I  am  very  sure  you  will  arrive,  unless  you  halt ! — 

Considered  as  the  last  finish  of  education,  or  of  human  cul- 
ture, worth  and  acquirement,  the  art  of  speech  is  noble,  and 
even  divine  ;  it  is  like  the  kindling  of  a  Heaven's  light  to 
show  us  what  a  glorious  world  exists,  and  has  perfected  itself, 
in  a  man.  But  if  no  world  exist  in  the  man  ;  if  nothing  but 
continents  of  empty  vapour,  of  greedy  self-conceits,  common- 
place hearsays,  and  indistinct  loomings  of  a  sordid  chaos  exist 
in  him,  what  will  be  the  use  of  '  light '  to  show  us  that  ?  Bet- 
ter a  thousand  times  that  such  a  man  do  not  speak  ;  but  keep 
his  empty  vapour  and  his  sordid  chaos  to  himself,  hidden  to 
the  ux^ost  irom  all  beholders.  To  look  on  that,  can  be  good 
for  ro  iriman  beholder;  to  look  away  from  that,  must  be 
fgvol.  Ind  if,  by  delusive  semblances  of  rhetoric,  logic,  first- 
degrees,  and  the  aid  of  elocution-masters  and  parliamen- 
tary reporters,  the  poor  proprietor  of  said  chaos  should  be  led 
to  persuade  himself,  and  get  others  persuaded, — which  it  is  the 
nature  of  his  sad  task  to  do,  and  which,  in  certain  eras  of  the 
world,  it  is  fatally  possible  to  do, — that  this  is  a  cosmos  which 
he  owns  ;  that  he,  being  so  perfect  in  tongue-exercise  and  full 
of  college-honours,  is  an  4  educated '  man,  and  pearl  of  great 
price  in  his  generation  ;  that  round  him,  and  his  parliament 
emulously  listening  to  him,  as  round  some  divine  apple  of 
gold  set  in  a  picture  of  silver,  all  the  world  should  gather  to 
adore  :  what  is  likely  to  become  of  him  and  the  gathering 
world  ?  An  apple  of  Sodom  set  in  the  clusters  of  Gomorrah  : 
that,  little  as  he  suspects  it,  is  the  definition  of  the  poor  cha- 
otically eloquent  man,  with  his  emulous  parliament  and  mise- 


172 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


rable  adoring  world  ! — Considered  as  the  whole  of  education, 
or  human  culture,  which  it  now  is  in  our  modern  manners ;  all 
apprenticeship  except  to  mere  handicraft  having  fallen  obso- 
lete, and  the  '  educated  man  '  being  with  us  emphatically  and 
exclusively  the  man  that  can  speak  well  with  tongue  or  pen, 
and  astonish  men  by  the  quantities  of  speech  he  has  heard 
("tremendous  reader,'  'walking  encyclopaedia,'  and  suchlike), 
— the  Art  of  Speech  is  probably  definable  in  that  case  as  the 
short  summary  of  all  the  Black  Arts  put  together. 


But  the  Schoolmaster  is  secondary,  an  effect  rather  than  a 
cause  in  this  matter  :  what  the  Schoolmaster  with  his  univer- 
sities shall  manage  or  attempt  to  teach  will  be  ruled  by  what 
the  Society  with  its  practical  industries  is  continually  demand- 
ing that  men  should  learn.  We  spoke  once  of  vital  lungs  for 
Society  :  and  in  fact  this  question  always  rises  as  the  alpha 
and  omega  of  social  questions,  What  methods  the  Society  has 
of  summoning  aloft  into  the  high  places,  for  its  help  and  gov- 
ernance, the  wisdom  that  is  born  to  it  in  all  places,  and  of 
course  is  born  chiefly  in  the  more  populous  or  lower  places  ? 
For  this,  if  you  will  consider  it,  expresses  the  ultimate  avail- 
able result,  and  net  sum-total,  of  all  the  efforts,  struggles  and 
confused  activities  that  go  on  in  the  Society  ;  and  determines 
whether  they  are  true  and  wise  efforts,  certain  to  be  victori- 
ous, or  false  and  foolish,  certain  to  be  futile,  and  to  fall  cap- 
tive and  caitiff.  How  do  men  rise  in  your  Society  ?  In  all 
Societies,  Turkey  included,  and  I  suppose  Dahomey  included, 
men  do  rise  ;  but  the  question  of  questions  always  is,  What 
kind  of  men  ?  Men  of  noble  gifts,  or  men  of  ignoble  ?  It  is 
the  one  or  the  other  ;  and  a  life-and-death  inquiry  which  ! 
For  in  all  places  and  all  times,  little  as  you  may  heed  it,  Nat- 
ure most  silently  but  most  inexorably  demands  that  it  be  the 
one  and  not  the  other.  And  you  need  not  try  to  palm  an  ig- 
noble sham  upon  her,  and  call  it  noble  ;  for  she  is  a  judge. 
And  her  penalties,  as  quiet  as  she  looks,  are  terrible  ;  amount- 
ing to  world-earthquakes,  to  anarchy  and  death  everlasting ; 
and  admit  of  no  appeal  ! — 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


Surely  England  still  flatters  herself  that  she  has  lungs  ;  that 
she  can  still  breathe  a  little  ?  Or  is  it  that  the  poor  creature, 
driven  into  mere  blind  industrialism s  ;  and  as  it  were,  gone 
pearl-diving  this  long  while  many  fathoms  deep,  and  tearing- 
up  the  oyster-beds  so  as  never  creature  did  before,  hardly 
knows, — so  busy  in  the  belly  of  the  oyster-chaos,  where  is  no 
thought  of  'breathing,' — whether  she  has  lungs  or  not  ?  Na- 
tions of  a  robust  habit,  and  fine  deep  chest,  can  sometimes 
take-in  a  deal  of  breath  before  diving  ;  and  live  long,  in  the 
muddy  deeps,  without  new  breath  :  but  they  too  come  to  need 
it  at  last,  and  will  die  if  they  cannot  get  it ! 

To  the  gifted  soul  that  is  born  in  England,  what  is  the  ca- 
reer, then,  that  will  carry  him,  amid  noble  Olympic  dust,  up 
to  the  immortal  gods  ?  For  his  country's  sake,  that  it  may 
not  lose  the  service  he  was  born  capable  of  doing  it ;  for  his 
own  sake,  that  his  life  be  not  choked  and  perverted,  and  his 
light  from  Heaven  be  not  changed  into  lightning  from  the 
Other  Place, — it  is  essential  that  there  be  such  a  career. 
The  country  that  can  offer  no  career  in  that  case,  is  a  doomed 
country  ;  nay  it  is  already  a  dead  country  :  it  has  secured  the 
ban  of  Heaven  upon  it  ;  will  not  have  Heaven's  light,  will 
have  the  Other  Place's  lightning  ;  and  may  consider  itself  as 
appointed  to  expire,  in  frightful  coughings  of  street  musketry 
or  otherwise,  on  a  set  day,  and  to  be  in  the  eye  of  law  dead. 
In  no  country  is  there  not  some  career,  inviting  to  it  either 
the  noble  Hero,  or  the  tough  Greek  of  the  Lower  Empire  : 
which  of  the  two  do  your  careers  invite  ?  There  is  no  ques- 
tion more  important.  The  kind  of  careers  you  offer  in  coun- 
tries still  living,  determines  with  perfect  exactness  the  kind 
of  the  life  that  is  in  them, — whether  it  is  natural  blessed  life, 
or  galvanic  accursed  ditto,  and  likewise  what  degree  of  strength 
is  in  the  same. 

Our  English  careers  to  born  genius  are  twofold.  There  is 
the  silent  or  unlearned  career  of  the  Inclustrialisms,  which  are 
very  many  among  us  ;  and  there  is  the  articulate  or  learned 
career  of  the  three  professions,  Medicine,  Law  (under  which 
we  may  include  Politics),  and  the  Church.  Your  born  genius, 
therefore,  will  first  have  to  ask  himself,  Whether  he  can  hold 


174 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


his  tongue  or  cannot  ?    True,  all  human  talent,  especially  all 

deep  talent,  is  a  talent  to  do,  and  is  intrinsically  of  silent  nat- 
ure ;  inaudible,  like  the  Sphere  Harmonies  and  Eternal  Melo- 
dies, of  which  it  is  an  incarnated  fraction.  All  real  talent,  I 
fancy,  would  much  rather,  if  it  listened  only  to  Nature's  moni- 
tions, express  itself  in  rhythmic  facts  than  in  melodious  words3 
which  latter  at  best,  where  they  are  good  for  anything,  are  only 
a  feeble  echo  and  shadow  or  foreshadow  of  the  former.  But 
talents  differ  much  in  this  of  power  to  be  silent ;  and  circum- 
stances, of  position,  opportunity  and  suchlike,  modify  them 
still  more  ; — and  Nature's  monitions,  oftenest  quite  drowned 
in  foreign  hearsays,  are  by  no  means  the  only  ones  listened  to 
in  deciding  ! — The  Industrialisms  are  all  of  silent  nature  ;  and 
some  of  them  are  heroic  and  eminently  human  ;  others,  again, 
we  may  call  unheroic,  not  eminently  human  :  beauerish  rather, 
but  still  honest  ;  some  are  even  vulpine,  altogether  inhuman 
and  dishonest.    Your  born  genius  must  make  his  choice. 

If  a  soul  is  born  with  divine  intelligence,  and  has  its  lips 
touched  with  hallowed  fire,  in  consecration  for  high  enter- 
prises under  the  sun,  this  young  soul  will  find  the  question 
asked  of  him  by  England  every  hour  and  moment :  "  Canst 
thou  turn  thy  human  intelligence  into  the  beaver  sort,  and 
make  honest  contrivance,  and  accumulation  of  capital  by  it  ? 
If  so,  do  it ;  and  avoid  the  vulpine  kind,  which  I  don't  recom- 
mend. Honest  triumphs  in  engineering  and  machinery  await 
thee  ;  scrip  awaits  thee,  commercial  successes,  kingship  in 
the  counting-room,  on  the  stock-exchange  ; — thou  shalt  be 
the  envy  of  surrounding  flunkies,  and  collect  into  a  heap  more 
gold  than  a  dray-horse  can  draw." — "Gold,  so  much  gold?" 
answers  the  ingenuous  soul,  with  visions  of  the  envy  of  sur- 
rounding flunkies  dawning  on  him ;  and  in  very  many  cases 
decides  that  he  will  contract  himself  into  beaverism,  and  with 
such  a  horse-draught  of  gold,  emblem  of  a  never-imagined 
success  in  beaver  heroism,  strike  the  surrounding  flunkies 
yellow. 

This  is  our  common  course  ;  this  is  in  some  sort  open  to 
every  creature,  what  we  call  the  beaver  career  ;  perhaps  more 
open  in  England,  taking  in  America  too,  than  it  ever  was  in 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


175 


any  country  before.  And,  truly,  good  consequences  follow 
out  of  it :  who  can  be  blind  to  them  ?  Half  of  a  most  excellent 
and  opulent  result  is  realised  to  us  in  this  way  ;  baleful  only 
when  it  sets-up  (as  too  often  now)  for  being  the  whole  result. 
A  half-result  which  will  be  blessed  and  heavenly  so  soon  as 
the  other  half  is  had, — namely  wisdom  to  guide  the  first  half. 
Let  us  honour  all  honest  human  power  of  contrivance  in  its 
degree.  The  beaver  intellect,  so  long  as  it  steadfastly  refuses 
to  be  vulpine,  and  answers  the  tempter  pointing  out  short 
routes  to  it  with  an  honest  "  No,  no,"  is  truly  respectable  to 
me  ;  and  many  a  highflying  speaker  and  singer  whom  I  have 
known,  has  appeared  to  me  much  less  of  a  developed  man 
than  certain  of  my  mill-owning,  agricultural,  commercial,  me- 
chanical, or  otherwise  industrial  friends,  who  have  held  their 
peace  all  their  days  and  gone  on  in  the  silent  state.  If  a  man 
can  keep  his  intellect  silent,  and  make  it  even  into  honest 
beaverism,  several  very  manful  moralities,  in  danger  of  wreck 
on  other  courses,  may  comport  well  with  that,  and  give  it  a 
genuine  and  partly  human  character  ;  and  I  will  tell  him,  in 
these  days  he  may  do  far  worse  with  himself  and  his  intellect 
than  change  it  into  beaverism,  and  make  honest  money  with  it 
If  indeed  he  could  become  a  heroic  industrial,  and  have  a  life 
'  eminently  human  ' !  But  that  is  not  easy  at  present.  Proba- 
bly some  ninety-nine  out  of  every  hundred  of  our  gifted  souls, 
yvho  have  to  seek  a  career  for  themselves,  go  this  beaver  road. 
Whereby  the  first  half -result,  national  wealth  namely,  is  plenti- 
fully realised  ;  and  only  the  second  half,  or  wisdom  to  guide 
it,  is  dreadfully  behindhand. 

But  now  if  the  gifted  soul  be  not  of  taciturn  nature,  be  of 
vivid,  impatient,  rapidly-productive  nature,  and  aspire  much 
to  give  itself  sensible  utterance, — I  find  that,  in  this  case,  the 
field  it  has  in  England  is  narrow  to  an  extreme  ;  is  perhaps 
narrower  than  ever  offered  itself,  for  the  like  object,  in  this 
world  before.  Parliament,  Church,  Law  :  let  the  young  vivid 
soul  turn  whither  he  will  for  a  career,  he  finds  among  variable 
conditions  one  condition  invariable,  and  extremely  surprising, 
That  the  proof  of  excellence  is  to  be  done  by  the  tongue. 
For  heroism  that  will  not  speak,  but  only  act,  there  is  no  ac- 


176 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


count  kept  : — The  English  Nation  does  not  need  that  silent 
kind,  then,  but  only  the  talking  kind  ?  Most  astonishing. 
Of  all  the  organs  a  man  has,  there  is  none  held  in  account,  it 
would  appear,  but  the  tongue  he  uses  for  talking.  Premier- 
ship, woolsack,  mitre,  and  quasi-crown  :  all  is  attainable  if  you 
can  talk  with  due  ability.  Everywhere  your  proof-shot  is  to 
be  a  well-fired  volley  of  talk.  Contrive  to  talk  well,  you  will 
get  to  Heaven,  the  modern  Heaven  of  the  English.  Do  not 
talk  well,  only  work  well,  and  heroically  hold  your  peace,  you 
have  no  chance  whatever  to  get  thither  ;  with  your  utmost 
industry  you  may  get  to  Threadneedle  Street,  and  accumu- 
late more  gold  than  a  dray  horse  can  draw.  Is  not  this  a  very 
wonderful  arrangement  ? 

I  have  heard  of  races  done  by  mortals  tied  in  sacks  ;  of 
human  competitors,  high  aspirants,  climbing  heavenward  on 
the  soaped  pole  ;  seizing  the  soaped  pig  ;  and  clutching  with 
deft  fist,  at  full  gallop,  the  fated  goose  tied  aloft  by  its  foot ; — ■ 
which  feats  do  prove  agility,  toughness  and  other  useful  facul- 
ties in  man  :  but  this  of  dextrous  talk  is  probably  as  strange 
a  competition  as  any.  And  the  question  rises,  Whether  cer- 
tain of  these  other  feats,  or  perhaps  an  alternation  of  all  of 
them,  relieved  now  and  then  by  a  bout  of  grinning  through 
the  collar,  might  not  be  profitably  substituted  for  the  solitary 
proof-feat  of  talk,  now  getting  rather  monotonous  by  its  long 
continuance?  Alas,  Mr.  Bull,  I  do  find  it  is  all  little  other 
than  a  proof  of  toughness,  which  is  a  quality  I  respect,  with 
more  or  less  expenditure  of  falsity  and  astucity  superadded, 
which  I  entirely  condemn.  Toughness  plus  astucity  : — per- 
haps a  simple  wooden  mast  set  up  in  Palace- Yard,  well  soaped 
and  duly  presided  over,  might  be  the  honester  method? 
Such  a  method  as  this  by  trial  of  talk,  for  filling  your  chief 
offices  in  Church  and  State,  was  perhaps  never  heard  of  in 
the  solar  system  before.  You  are  quite  used  to  it,  my  poor 
friend  ;  and  nearly  dead  by  the  consequences  of  it :  but  in  the 
other  Planets,  as  in  other  epochs  of  your  own  Planet  it  would 
have  done  had  you  proposed  it,  the  thing  awakens  incredulous 
amazement,  world-wide  Olympic  laughter,  which  ends  in  tem- 
pestuous hootings,  in  tears  and  horror !    My  friend,  if  you 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


177 


can,  as  heretofore  this  good  while,  find  nobody  to  take  care 
of  your  affairs  but  the  expertest  talker,  it  is  all  over  with  your 
affairs  and  you.  Talk  never  yet  could  guide  any  man's  or 
nation's  affairs  ;  nor  will  it  yours,  except  towards  the  Limb  as 
Patrum,  where  all  talk,  except  a  very  select  kind  of  it,  lodges 
at  last. 

Medicine,  guarded  too  by  preliminary  impediments,  and 
frightful  medusa-heads  of  quackery,  which  deter  many  gener- 
ous souls  from  entering,  is  of  the  h alf- articulate  professions, 
and  does  not  much  invite  the  ardent  kinds  of  ambition.  The 
intellect  required  for  medicine  might  be  wholly  human,  and 
indeed  should  by  all  rules  be, — the  profession  of  the  Human 
Healer  being  radically  a  sacred  one  and  connected  with  the 
highest  priesthoods,  or  rather  being  itself  the  outcome  and 
acme  of  all  priesthoods,  and  divinest  conquests  of  intellect 
here  below.  As  will  appear  one  day,  when  men  take  off  their 
old  monastic  and  ecclesiastic  spectacles,  and  look  with  eyes 
again  !  In  essence  the  Physician's  task  is  always  heroic,  emi- 
nently human  :  but  in  practice  most  unluckily  at  present  we 
find  it  to  become  in  good  part  beaverish  ;  yielding  a  money- 
result  alone.  And  what  of  it  is  not  beaverish,— does  not  that 
too  go  mainly  to  ingenious  talking,  publishing  of  yourself, 
ingratiating  of  yourself  ;  a  partly  human  exercise  or  waste  of 
intellect,  and  alas  a  partly  vulpine  ditto ; — making  the  once 
sacred  'Iarpos,  or  Human  Healer  more  impossible  for  us  than 
ever  ! 

Angry  basilisks  watch  at  the  gates  of  Law  and  Church  just 
now  ;  and  strike  a  sad  damp  into  the  nobler  of  the  young  as- 
pirants. Hard  bonds  are  offered  you  to  sign  ;  as  it  were,  a 
solemn  engagement  to  constitute  yourself  an  impostor,  before 
ever  entering ;  to  declare  your  belief  in  incredibilities, — your 
determination,  in  short,  to  take  Chaos  for  Cosmos,  and  Satan 
for  the  Lord  of  things,  if  he  come  with  money  in  his  pockets, 
and  horsehair  and  bombazeen  decently  wrapped  about  him. 
Fatal  preliminaries,  which  deter  many  an  ingenuous  young 
soul,  and  send  him  back  from  the  threshold,  and  I  hope  will 
deter  ever  more.  But  if  you  do  enter,  the  condition,  is  well 
12 


173 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


known:  "Talk  ;  who  can  talk  best  here?  His  shall  be  the 
mouth  of  gold,  and  the  purse  of  gold  ;  and  with  my  /xtVpa 
(once  the  head-dress  of  unfortunate-females,  I  am  told)  shall 
his  sacred  temples  be  begirt." 

Ingenuous  souls,  unless  forced  to  it,  do  now  much  shudder 
at  the  threshold  of  both  these  careers,  and  not  a  few  despe- 
rately turn  back  into  the  wilderness  rather,  to  front  a  very 
rude  fortune,  and  be  devoured  by  wild-beasts  as  is  likeliest. 
But  as  to  Parliament,  again,  and  its  eligibility  if  attainable, 
there  is  yet  no  question  anywhere  ;  the  ingenuous  soul,  if 
possessed  of  money-capital  enough,  is  predestined  by  the  pa- 
rental and  all  manner  of  monitors  to  that  career  of  talk  ;  and 
accepts  it  with  alacrity  and  clearness  of  heart,  doubtful  only 
whether  he  shall  be  able  to  make  a  speech.  Courage,  my 
brave  young  fellow.  If  you  can  climb  a  soaped  pole  of  any 
kind,  you  will  certainly  be  able  to  make  a  speech.  All  mor- 
tals have  a  tongue  ;  and  carry  on  some  jumble,  if  not  of 
thought,  yet  of  stuff  which  they  could  talk.  The  weakest  of 
animals  has  got  a  cry  in  it,  and  can  give  voice  before  dying. 
If  you  are  tough  enough,  bent  upon  it  desperately  enough,  I 
engage  you  shall  make  a  speech  ; — but  whether  that  will  be 
the  way  to  Heaven  for  you,  I  do  not  engage. 

These,  then,  are  our  two  careers  for  genius  :  mute  Indus- 
trialism, which  can  seldom  become  very  human,  but  remains 
beaverish  mainly :  and  the  three  Professions  named  learned, 
— that  is  to  say,  able  to  talk.  For  the  heroic  or  higher  kinds 
of  human  intellect,  in  the  silent  state,  there  is  not  the  smallest 
inquiry  anywhere  ;  apparently  a  thing  not  wanted  in  this 
country  at  present.  What  the  supply  may  be,  I  cannot  in- 
form M'Croudy  ;  but  the  market-demand,  he  may  himself  see, 
is  nil.  These  are  our  three  professions  that  require  human 
intellect  in  part  or  whole,  not  able  to  do  with  mere  beaver- 
ish ;  and  such  a  part  does  the  gift  of  talk  play  in  one  and  all 
of  them.  Whatsoever  is  not  beaverish  seems  to  go  forth  in 
the  shape  of  talk.  To  such  length  is  human  intellect  wasted 
or  suppressed  in  this  world  ! 

If  the  young  aspirant  is  not  rich  enough  for  Parliament, 
and  is  deterred  by  the  basilisks  or  otherwise  from  entering  on 


STUMP-ORATOE. 


179 


Law  or  Church,  and  cannot  altogether  reduce  hia  human  in- 
tellect to  the  b^averish  condition,  or  satisfy  himself  with  the 
prospect  of  making  monej', — what  becomes  of  him  in  such 
case,  which  is  naturally  the  case  of  very  many,  and  ever  of 
more  ?  In  such  case  there  remains  but  one  outlet  for  him, 
and  notably  enough  that  too  is  a  talking  one  :  the  outlet  of 
Literature,  of  trying  to  write  Books.  Since,  owing  to  pre- 
liminary basilisks,  want  of  cash,  or  superiority  to  cash,  he 
cannot  mount  aloft  by  eloquent  talking,  let  him  try  it  by  dex- 
trous eloquent  writing.  Here  happily,  having  three  fingers, 
and  capital  to  buy  a  quire  of  paper,  he  can  try  it  to  all  lengths 
and  in  spite  of  all  mortals  :  in  this  career  there  is  happily  no 
public  impediment  that  can  turn  him  back  ;  nothing  but  pri- 
vate starvation, — which  is  itself  a  finis  or  kind  of  goal, — can 
pretend  to  hinder  a  British  man  from  prosecuting  Literature 
to  the  very  utmost,  and  wringing  the  final  secret  from  her : 
"  A  talent  is  in  thee  ;  No  talent  is  in  thee."  To  the  British  sub- 
ject who  fancies  genius  may  be  lodged  in  him,  this  liberty  re- 
mains ;  and  truly  it  is,  if  well  computed,  almost  the  only  one 
he  has. 

A  crowded  portal  this  of  Literature,  accordingly  !  The 
haven  of  expatriated  spiritualisms,  and  alas  also  of  expatri- 
ated vanities  and  prurient  imbecilities  :  here  do  the  windy 
aspirations,  foiled  activities,  foolish  ambitions,  and  frustrate 
human  energies  reduced  to  the  vocable  condition,  fly  as  to  the 
one  refuge  left ;  and  the  Kepublic  of  Letters  increases  in 
population  at  a  faster  rate  than  even  the  Republic  of  America. 
The  strangest  regiment  in  her  Majesty's  service,  this  of  the 
Soldiers  of  Literature  : — would  your  Lordship  much  like  fo 
march  through  Coventry  with  them  ?  The  immortal  gods  are 
there  (quite  irrecognisable  under  these  disguises),  and  also  the 
lowest  broken  valets  ; — an  extremely  miscellaneous  regiment. 
In  fact  the  regiment,  superficially  viewed,  looks  like  an  im- 
measurable motley  flood  of  discharged  playactors,  funambu- 
lists, false  prophets,  drunken  ballad-singers ;  and  marches  not 
as  a  regiment,  but  as  a  boundless  canaille, — without  drill,  uni- 
form, captaincy  or  billet  ;  with  huge  ocer-proportion  of  drum- 
mers ;  you  would  say,  a  regiment  gone  wholly  to  the  druin, 


ISO 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


with  hardly  a  good  musket  to  be  seen  in  it, — more  a  canaille 
than  a  regiment.  Canaille  of  all  the  loud-sounding  levities, 
and  general  winnowings  of  Chaos,  marching  through  the 
world  in  a  most  ominous  manner  ;  proclaiming,  audibly  if 
you  have  ears:  "  Twelfth  hour  of  the  Night ;  ancient  graves 
yawning ;  pale  clammy  Puseyisms  screeching  in  their  wind- 
ing-sheets ;  owls  busy  in  the  City  regions ;  many  goblins 
abroad !  Awake,  ye  living ;  dream  no  more ;  arise  to  judg- 
ment !  Chaos  and  Gehenna  are  broken  loose ;  the  Devil  with 
his  Bedlams  must  be  flung  in  chains  again,  and  the  Last  of 
the  Days  is  about  to  dawn  !  "  Such  is  Literature  to  the  re- 
flective soul  at  this  moment. 

But  what  now  concerns  us  most  is  the  circumstance  that 
here  too  the  demand  is,  Vocables,  still  vocables.  In  all  ap- 
pointed courses  of  activity  and  paved  careers  for  human  ge- 
nius, and  in  this  unpaved,  unappointed,  broadest  career  of 
Literature,  broad  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction  for  so  many, 
the  one  duty  laid  upon  you  is  still,  Talk,  talk.  Talk  well  , 
with  pen  or  tongue,  and  it  shall  be  well  with  you ;  do  not  talk 
well,  it  shall  be  ill  with  you.  To  wag  the  tongue  with  dex- 
trous acceptability,  there  is  for  human  worth  and  faculty,  in 
our  England  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  that  one  method  of 
emergence  and  no  other.  Silence,  you  would  say,  means  an- 
nihilation for  the  Englishman  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  The 
worth  that  has  not  spoken  itself,  is  not ;  or  is  potentially  only, 
and  as  if  it  were  not.  Vox  is  the  God  of  this  Universe.  If 
you  have  human  intellect,  it  avails  nothing  unless  you  either 
make  it  into  beaverism,  or  talk  with  it.  Make  it  into  beaver- 
ism,  and  gather  money  ;  or  else  make  talk  with  it,  and  gather 
what  you  can.  Such  is  everywhere  the  demand  for  talk  among 
us  ;  to  which,  of  course,  the  supply  is  proportionate. 

From  dinners  up  to  woolsacks  and  divine  mitres,  here  in 
England,  much  may  be  gathered  by  talk  ;  without  talk,  of  the 
human  sort  nothing.  Is  Spciety  become  wholly  a  bag  of  wind, 
then,  ballasted  by  guineas  ?  Are  our  interests  in  it  as  a  sound- 
ing brass  and  a  tinkling  cymbal? — In  Army  or  Navy,  when 
unhappily  we  have  war  on  hand,  there  is,  almost  against  our 
will,  some  kind  of  demand  for  certain  of  the  silent  talents. 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


1S1 


But  in  peace,  that  too  passes  into  mere  demand  of  the  osten- 
tations, of  the  pipeclays  and  the  blank  cartridges  ;  and, — ex- 
cept that  Naval  men  are  occasionally,  on  long  voyages,  forced 
to  hold  their  tongue,  and  converse  with  the  dumb  elements, 
and  illimitable  oceans,  that  moan  and  rave  there  without  you 
and  within  you,  which  is  a  great  advantage  to  the  Naval  man, 
— our  poor  United  Services  have  to  make  conversational  wind- 
bags and  ostentational  paper-lanterns  of  themselves,  or  do 
worse,  even  as  the  others. 

My  friends,  must  I  assert,  then,  what  surely  all  men  know, 
though  all  men  seem  to  have  forgotten  it,  That  in  the  learned 
professions  as  in  the  unlearned,  and  in  human  things  through- 
out, in  every  place  and  in  every  time,  the  true  function  of  in- 
tellect is  not  that  of  talking,  but  of  understanding  and  dis- 
cerning with  a  view  to  performing  !  An  intellect  may  easily 
talk  too  much,  and  perform  too  little.  Gradually,  if  it  get 
into  the  noxious  habit  of  talk,  there  will  less  and  less  per- 
formance come  of  it,  talk  being  so  delightfully  handy  in  com- 
parison with  work  ;  and  at  last  there  will  no  work,  or  thought 
of  work,  be  got  from  it  at  all.  Talk,  except  as  the  prepara- 
tion for  work,  is  worth  almost  nothing ; — sometimes  it  is  worth 
infinitely  less  than  nothing ;  and  becomes,  little  conscious  of 
playing  such  a  fatal  part,  the  general  summary  of  pretentious 
nothingnesses,  and  the  chief  of  all  the  curses  the  Posterity  of 
Adam  are  liable  to  in  this  sublunary  world  !  Would  you  dis- 
cover the  Atropos  of  Human  Virtue  ;  the  sure  Destroyer,  'by 
painless  extinction,'  of  Human  Veracities,  Performances,  and 
Capabilities  to  perform  or  to  be  veracious, — it  is  this,  you  have 
it  here. 

Unwise  talk  is  matchless  in  unwisdom.  Unwise  work,  if 
it  but  persist,  is  everywhere  struggling  towards  correction, 
and  restoration  to  health  ;  for  it  is  still  in  contact  with  Nature, 
and  all  Nature  incessantly  contradicts  it,  and  will  heal  it  or 
annihilate  it :  not  so  with  unwise  talk,  which  addresses  itself, 
regardless  of  veridical  Nature,  to  the  universal  suffrages  ;  and 
can  if  it  be  dextrous,  .find  harbour  there  till  all  the  suffrages 
are  bankrupt  and  gone  to  Houndsditch,  Nature  not  interfering 
with  her  protest  till  then.  False  speech,  definable  as  the  acme 


182 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


of  unwise  speech,  is  capable,  as  we  already  said,  of  becoming 
the  falsest  of  all  things.  Falsest  of  all  things  : — and  whither 
will  the  general  deluge  of  that,  in  Parliament  and  Synagogue, 
in  Book  and  Broadside,  carry  you  and  your  affairs,  my  friend, 
when  once  they  are  embarked  on  it  as  now  ? 


Parliament,  Parliamentum,  is  by  express  appointment  the 
Talking  Apparatus  ;  yet  not  in  Parliament  either  is  the  essen- 
tial function,  by  any  means,  talk.  Not  to  speak  your  opinion 
well,  but  to  have  a  good  and  just  opinion  worth  speaking, — 
for  every  Parliament,  as  for  every  man,  this  latter  is  the  point. 
Contrive  to  have  a  true  opinion,  you  will  get  it  told  in  some 
way,  better  or  worse  ;  and  it  will  be  a  blessing  to  all  creatures. 
Have  a  false  opinion,  and  tell  it  with  the  tongue  of  Angels, 
what  can  that  profit  ?  The  better  you  tell  it,  the  worse  it  will 
be! 

In  Parliament  and  out  of  Parliament,  and  everywhere  in 
this  Universe,  your  one  salvation  is,  That  you  can  discern  with 
just  insight,  and  follow  with  noble  valour,  what  the  law  of  the 
case  before  you  is,  what  the  appointment  of  the  Maker  in  re- 
gard to  it  has  been.  Get  this  out  of  one  man,  you  are  saved  ; 
fail  to  get  this  out  of  the  most  August  Parliament  wrapt  in  the 
sheepskins  of  a  thousand  years,  you  are  lost, — your  Parlia- 
ment, and  you,  and  all  your  sheej^skins  are  lost.  Beautiful 
talk  is  by  no  means  the  most  pressing  want  in  Parliament ! 
We  have  had  some  reasonable  modicum  of  talk  in  Parliament ! 
What  talk  has  done  for  us  in  Parliament,  and  is  now  doing, 
the  dullest  of  us  at  length  begins  to  see  ! 

Much  has  been  said  of  Parliament's  breeding  men  to  busi- 
ness ;  of  the  training  an  Official  Man  gets  in  this  school  of 
argument  and  talk.  He  is  here  inured  to  patience,  tolerance  ; 
sees  what  is  what  in  the  Nation  and  in  the  Nation's  Govern- 
ment ;  attains  official  knowledge,  official  courtesy  and  man- 
ners ; — in  short,  is  polished  at  all  points  into  official  articula- 
tion, and  here  better  than  elsewhere  qualifies  himself  to  be  a 
Governor  of  men.    So  it  is  said. — Doubtless,  I  think,  he  will 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


183 


see  and  suffer  much  in  Parliament,  and  inure  himself  to  sev- 
eral things  ; — he  will,  with  what  eves  he  has,  gradually  see  Par- 
liament itself,  for  one  thing ;  what  a  high-soaring,  helplessly 
floundering,  ever  babbling  yet  inarticulate  dark  dumb  Entity 
it  is  (certainly  one  of  the  strangest  under  the  sun  just  now)  : 
which  doubtless,  if  he  have  in  view  to  get  measures  voted 
there  one  day,  will  be  an  important  acquisition  for  him.  But 
as  to  breeding  himself  for  a  Doer  of  Work,  much  more  for  a 
King,  or  Chief  of  Doers,  here  in  this  element  of  talk  ;  as  to 
that  I  confess  the  fatalest  doubts,  or  rather,  alas,  I  have  no 
doubt !  Alas,  it  is  our  fatalest  misery  just  now,  not  easily  al- 
terable, and  yet  urgently  requiring  to  be  altered,  That  no 
British  man  can  attain  to  be  a  Statesman,  or  Chief  of  Workers, 
till  he  has  first  proved  himself  a  Chief  of  Talkers :  which  mode 
of  trial  for  a  Worker,  is  it  not  precisely,  of  all  the  trials  you 
could  set  him  upon,  the  falsest  and  unfairest  ? 

Nay,  I  doubt  much  you  are  not  likely  ever  to  meet  the  fit- 
test material  for  a  Statesman,  or  Chief  of  Workers,  in  such 
an  element  as  that.  Your  Potential  Chief  of  Workers,  will  he 
come  there  at  all,  to  try  whether  he  can  talk  ?  Your  poor  ten- 
pound  franchisers  and  electoral  world  generally,  in  love  with 
eloquent  talk,  are  they  the  likeliest  to  discern  what  man  it  is 
that  has  worlds  of  silent  work  in  him?  No.  Or  is  such  a 
man,  even  if  born  in  the  due  rank  for  it,  the  likeliest  to  pre- 
sent himself,  and  court  their  most  sweet  voices  ?    Again,  no. 

The  Age  that  admires  talk  so  much  can  have  little  discern- 
ment for  inarticulate  work,  or  for  anything  that  is  deep  and 
genuine.  Nobody,  or  hardly  anybody,  having  in  himself  an 
earnest  sense  for  truth,  how  can  anybody  recognise  an  inartic- 
ulate Veracity,  or  Nature-fact  of  any  kind;  a  Human  Doer 
especially,  who  is  the  most  complex,  profound,  and  inarticu- 
late of  all  Nature's  Facts  ?  Nobody  can  recognise  him  :  till 
once  he  is  patented,  get  some  public  stamp  of  authenticity, 
and  has  been  articulately  proclaimed,  and  asserted  to  be  a 
Doer.  To  the  worshipper  of  talk,  such  a  one  is  a  sealed  book. 
An  excellent  human  soul,  direct  from  Heaven, — how  shall  any 
excellence  of  man  become  recognisable  to  this  unfortunate  ? 
Not  except  by  announcing  and  placarding  itself  as  excellent, 


184 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


— which,  I  reckon,  it  above  other  things  will  probably  be  in 

no  great  haste  to  do. 

Wisdom,  the  divine  message  which  every  soul  of  man  brings 
into  this  world  ;  the  divine  prophecy  of  what  the  new  man 
has  got  the  new  and  peculiar  capability  to  do,  is  intrinsically 
of  silent  nature.  It  cannot  at  once,  or  completely  at  all,  be 
read-off  in  words  ;  for  it  is  written  in  abstruse  facts,  of  endow- 
ment, position,  desire,  opportunity,  granted  to  the  man ; — in- 
terprets itself  in  presentiments,  vague  struggles,  passionate 
endeavours  ;  and  is  only  legible  in  whole  when  his  work  is 
done.  Not.  by  the  noble  monitions  of  Nature,  but  by  the 
ignoble,  is  a  man  much  tempted  to  publish  the  secret  of  his 
soul  in  words.  Words,  if  he  have  a  secret,  will  be  forever  in- 
adequate to  it.  Words  do  but  disturb  the  real  answer  of  fact 
which  could  be  given  to  it ;  disturb,  obstruct,  and  will  in  the 
end  abolish,  and  render  impossible,  said  answer.  No  grand 
Doer  in  this  world  can  be  a  copious  speaker  about  his  doings. 
William  the  Silent  spoke  himself  best  in  a  country  liberated  ; 
Oliver  Cromwell  did  not  shine  in  rhetoric  ;  Goethe,  when  he 
had  but  a  book  in  view,  found  that  he  must  say  nothing  even 
of  that,  if  it  was  to  succeed  with  him. 

Then  as  to  politeness,  and  breeding  to  business.  An  offi- 
cial man  must  be  bred  to  business  ;  of  course  he  must :  and 
not  for  essence  only,  but  even  for  the  manners  of  office  he  re- 
quires breeding.  Besides  his  intrinsic  faculty,  whatever  that 
may  be,  he  must  be  cautious,  vigilant,  discreet, — above  all 
things,  he  must  be  reticent,  patient,  polite.  Certain  of  these 
qualities  are  by  nature  imposed  upon  men  of  station  ;  and 
they  are  trained  from  birth  to  some  exercise  of  them  :  this 
constitutes  their  one  intrinsic  qualification  for  office  ;— this  is 
their  one  advantage  in  the  New  Downing  Street  projected  for 
this  New  Era  ;  and  it  will  not  go  for  much  in  that  Institution. 
One  advantage,  or  temporary  advantage  ;  against  which  there 
are  so  many  counterbalances.  It  is  the  indispensable  pre- 
liminary for  office,  but  by  no  means  the  complete  outfit, — a 
miserable  outfit  where  there  is  nothing  farther. 

Will  your  Lordship  give  me  leave  to  say  that,  practically, 
the  intrinsic  qualities  will  presuppose  these  preliminaries  too, 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


185 


but  by  no  means  vice  versa.  That,  on  the  whole,  if  you  have 
got  the  intrinsic  qualities,  you  have  got  everything,  and  the 
preliminaries  will  prove  attainable  ;  but  that  if  you  have  got 
only  the  preliminaries,  you  have  yet  got  nothing.  A  man  of 
real  dignity  will  not  find  it  impossible  to  bear  himself  in  a 
dignified  manner  ;  a  man  of  real  understanding  and  insight 
will  get  to  know,  as  the  fruit  of  his  very  first  study,  what  the 
laws  of  his  situation  are,  and  will  conform  to  these.  Rough 
old  Samuel  Johnson,  blustering  Boreas  and  rugged  Arctic 
Bear  as  he  often  was,  defined  himself,  justly  withal,  as  a  polite 
man  :  a  noble  manful  attitude  of  soul  is  his  ;  a  clear,  true  and 
loyal  sense  of  what  others  are,  and  what  he  himself  is,  shines 
through  the  rugged  coating  of  him  ;  comes  out  as  grave  deep 
rhythmus  when  his  King  honours  him,  and  he  will  not '  bandy 
compliments  with  his  King  ; ' — is  traceable  too  in  his  indig- 
nant trampling-down  of  the  Chesterfield  patronages,  tailor- 
made  insolences,  and  contradictions  of  sinners  ;  which  may 
be  called  his  revolutionary  movements,  hard  and  peremptory 
by  the  law  of  them  ;  these  could  not  be  soft  like  his  constitu- 
tional ones,  when  men  and  kings  took  him  for  somewhat  like 
the  thing  he  was.  Given  a  noble  man,  I  think  your  Lordship 
may  expect  by  and  by  a  polite  man.  No  c  politer '  man  was 
to  be  found  in  Britain  than  the  rustic  Robert  Burns  :  high 
duchesses  were  captivated  with  the  chivalrous  ways  of  the 
man  ;  recognised  that  here  was  the  true  chivalry,  and  divine 
nobleness  of  bearing, — as  indeed  they  well  might,  now  when 
the  Peasant  God  and  Norse  Thor  had  come  down  among 
them  again !  Chivalry  this,  if  not  as  they  do  chivalry  in 
Drury  Lane  or  West-End  drawing-rooms,  yet  as  they  do  it  in 
Valhalla  and  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Gods. 

For  indeed,  who  invented  chivalry,  politeness,  or  anything 
that  is  noble  and  melodious  and  beautiful  among  us,  except 
precisely  the  like  of  Johnson  and  of  Burns  ?  The  select  few 
who  in  the  generations  of  this  world  were  wise  and  valiant, 
they,  in  spite  of  all  the  tremendous  majority  of  blockheads 
and  slothful  belly-worshippers,  and  noisy  ugly  persons,  have 
devised  whatsoever  is  noble  in  the  manners  of  man  to  man. 
I  expect  they  will  learn  to  be  polite,  your  Lordship,  when  you 


186 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


give  them  a  chance  ! — Nor  is  it  as  a  school  of  human  culture, 
for  this  or  for  any  other  grace  or  gift,  that  Parliament  will  be 
found  first-rate  or  indispensable.  As  experience  in  the  river 
is  indispensable  to  the  ferryman,  so  is  knowledge  of  his  Par- 
liament to  the  British  Peel  or  Chatham  ; — so  was  knowledge 
of  the  (Eil-de-Boauf  to  the  French  Choiseul.  Where  and  how 
said  river,  whether  Parliament  with  Wilkeses,  or  OEil-de-Bceuf 
with  Pompadours,  can  be  waded,  boated,  swum  ;  how  the 
miscellaneous  cargoes,  '  measures  '  so-called,  can  be  got  across 
it,  according  to  their  kinds,  and  landed  alive  on  the  hither 
side  as  facts  : — we  have  all  of  us  our  ferries  in  this  world  ; 
and  must  know  the  river  and  its  ways,  or  get  drowned  some 
day !  In  that  sense,  practice  in  Parliament  is  indispensable 
to  the  British  Statesman  ;  but  not  in  any  other  sense. 

A  school,  too,  of  manners  and  of  several  other  things,  the 
Parliament  will  doubtless  be  to  the  aspirant  Statesman  ;  a 
school  better  or  worse  ; — as  the  (Eil-de-Bceuf  likewise  was, 
and  as  all  scenes  where  men  work  or  live  are  sure  to  be.  Es- 
pecially where  many  men  work  together,  the  very  rubbing 
against  one  another  will  grind  and  polish  off  their  angulari- 
ties into  roundness,  into  4  politeness '  after  a  sort :  and  the 
official  man,  place  him  how  you  may,  will  never  want  for 
schooling,  of  extremely  various  kinds.  A  first-rate  school  one 
cannot  call  this  Parliament  for  him  ; — I  fear  to  say  what  rate 
at  present !  In  so  far  as  it  teaches  him  vigilance,  patience, 
courage,  toughness  of  lungs  or  of  soul,  and  skill  in  any  kind 
of  swimming,  it  is  a  good  school.  In  so  far  as  it  forces  him 
to  speak  where  Nature  orders  silence  ;  and  even,  lest  all  the 
world  should  learn  his  secret  (which  often  enough  would  kill 
his  secret,  and  little  profit  the  world),  forces  him  to  speak  fal- 
sities, vague  ambiguities,  and  the  froth-dialect  usual  in  Par- 
liaments in  these  times,  it  may  be  considered  one  of  the  worst 
schools  ever  devised  by  man  ;  and,  I  think,  may  almost  chal- 
lenge the  (Eil-de-Boeuf  to  match  it  in  badness. 

Parliament  will  train  your  men  to  the  manners  required  of 
a  statesman  ;  but  in  a  much  less  degree  to  the  intrinsic  func- 
tions of  one.  To  these  latter,  it  is  capable  of  wmtraining  as 
nothing  else  can.    Parliament  will  train  you  to  talk  ;  and 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


187 


above  all  tilings  to  hear,  with  patience,  unlimited  quantities 
of  foolish  talk.  To  tell  a  good  story  for  yourself,  and  to  make 
it  appear  that  you  have  done  your  work  :  this,  especially  in 
constitutional  countries,  is  something  ; — and  yet  in  all  conn- 
tries,  constitutional  ones  too,  it  is  intrinsically  nothing,  prob- 
ably even  less.  For  it  is  not  the  function  of  any  mortal,  in 
Downing  Street  or  elsewhere  here  below,  to  wag  the  tongue 
of  him,  and  make  it  appear  that  he  has  done  work  ;  but  to 
wag  some  quite  other  organs  of  him,  and  to  do  work  ;  there 
is  no  danger  of  his  work's  appearing  by  and  by.  Such  an  ac- 
complishment, even  in  constitutional  countries,  I  grieve  to  say, 
may  become  much  less  than  nothing.  Have  you  at  all  com- 
puted how  much  less?  The  human  creature  who  has  once 
given  way  to  satisfying  himself  with  '  appearances, '  to  seeking 
his  salvation  in  'appearances,'  the  moral  life  of  such  human 
creature  is  rapidly  bleeding  out  of  him.  Depend  upon  it, 
Beelzebub,  Satan,  or  however  you  may  name  the  too  authen- 
tic Genius  of  Eternal  Death,  has  got  that  human  creature  in 
his  claws.  By  and  by  you  will  have  a  dead  parliamentary  bag- 
pipe, and  your  living  man  fled  away  without  return ! 

Such  parliamentary  bagpipes  I  myself  have  heard  play 
tunes,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  people.  Every  tune 
lies  within  their  compass ;  and  their  mind  (for  they  still  call 
it  mind)  is  ready  as  a  hurdygurdy  on  turning  of  the  handle  : 

"My  Lords,  this  question  now  before  the  House"  Ye 

Heavens,  O  ye  divine  Silences,  was  there  in  the  womb  of 
Chaos,  then,  such  a  product,  liable  to  be  evoked  by  human 
art,  as  that  same  ?  While  the  galleries  were  all  applausive  of 
heart,  and  the  Fourth  Estate  looked  with  eyes  enlightened,  as 
if  you  had  touched  its  lips  with  a  staff  dipped  in  honey, — I 
have  sat  with  reflections  too  ghastly  to  be  uttered.  A  poor 
human  creature  and  learned  friend,  once  possessed  of  many 
fine  gifts,  possessed  of  intellect,  veracity,  and  manful  convic- 
tion on  a  variety  of  objects,  has  he  now  lost  all  that ; — con- 
verted all  that  into  a  glistering  phosphorescence  which  can 
show  itself  on  the  outside  ;  while  within,  all  is  dead,  chaotic, 
dark ;  a  painted  sepulchre  full  of  dead-men's  bones !  Dis- 
cernment, knowledge,  intellect,  in  the  human  sense  of  the 


1S8 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


words,  this  man  has  now  none.  His  opinion  you  do  not 
ask  on  any  matter  ;  on  the  matter  he  has  no  opinion,  judg- 
ment, or  insight ;  only  on  what  may  be  said  about  the  matter, 
how  it  may  be  argued  of,  what  tune  may  be  played  upon  it  to 
enlighten  the  eyes  of  the  Fourth  Estate. 

Such  a  soul,  though  to  the  eye  he  still  keeps  tumbling  about 
in  the  Parliamentary  element,  and  makes  '  motions,'  and  passes 
bills,  for  aught  I  know, — are  we  to  define  him  as  a  living  one, 
or  as  a  dead  ?  Partridge  the  Almanac-maker,  whose  1  publi- 
cations '  still  regularly  appear,  is  known  to  be  dead  !  The  dog 
that  was  drowned  last  summer,  and  that  floats  up  and  down 
the  Thames  with  ebb  and  flood  ever  since, — is  it  not  dead  ? 
Alas,  in  the  hot  months,  you  meet  here  and  there  such  a 
floating  dog  ;  and  at  length,  if  you  often  use  the  river  steam- 
ers, get  to  know  him  by  sight.  "  There  he  is  again,  still  astir 
there  in  his  quasi-stygian  element !  "  you  dejectedly  exclaim 
(perhaps  reading  your  Morning  Newspaper  at  the  moment)  ; 
sj  and  reflect,  with  a  painful  oppression  of  nose  and  imagination, 
on  certain  completed  professors  of  parliamentary  eloquence 
in  modern  times.  Dead  long  since,  but  not  resting  ;  daily  do- 
ing motions  in  that  Westminster  region  still, — daily  from 
Vauxhall  to  Blackfriars,  and  back  again  ;  and  cannot  get  away 
at  all !  Daily  (from  Newspaper  or  river  steamer)  you  may  see 
him  at  some  point  of  his  fated  course,  hovering  in  the  eddies, 
stranded  in  the  ooze,  or  rapidly  progressing  with  flood  or 
ebb  ;  and  daily  the  odour  of  him  is  getting  more  intolerable  ; 
daily  the  condition  of  him  appeals  more  tragically  to  gods  and 
men. 


Nature  admits  no  lie  ;  most  men  profess  to  be  aware  of 
this,  but  few  in  any  measure  lay  it  to  heart.  Except  in  the 
departments  of  mere  material  manipulation,  it  seems  to  be 
taken  practically  as  if  this  grand  truth  were  merely  a  polite 
flourish  of  rhetoric.  What  is  a  lie  ?  The  question  is  worth 
asking,  once  and  away,  by  the  practical  English  mind. 

A  voluntary  spoken  divergence  from  the  fact  as  it  stands, 
as  it  has  occurred  and  will  proceed  to  develop  itself :  this 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


189 


clearly,  if  adopted  by  any  man,  will  so  far  forth  mislead  him 
in  all  practical  dealing  with  the  fact ;  till  he  cast  that  state- 
ment out  of  him,  and  reject  it  as  an  unclean  poisonous  thing, 
he  can  have  no  success  in  dealing  with  the  fact  If  such 
spoken  divergence  from  the  truth  be  involuntary,  we  lament 
it  as  a  misfortune ;  and  are  entitled,  at  least  the  speaker  of  it 
is,  to  lament  it  extremely  as  the  most  palpable  of  all  misfor- 
tunes, as  the  indubitablest  losing  of  his  way,  and  turning  aside 
from  the  goal  instead  of  pressing  towards  it,  in  the  race  set 
before  him.  If  the  divergence  is  voluntary, — there  superadds 
itself  to  our  sorrow  a  just  indignation  :  we  call  the  voluntary 
spoken  divergence  a  lie,  and  justly  abhor  it  as  the  essence  of 
human  treason  and  baseness,  the  desertion  of  a  man  to  the 
Enemy  of  men  against  himself  and  his  brethren.  A  lost  de- 
serter ;  who  has  gone  over  to  the  Enemy,  called  Satan  ;  and 
cannot  but  be  lost  in  the  adventure  !  Such  is  every  liar  with 
the  tongue  ;  and  such  in  all  nations  is  he,  at  all  epochs,  con- 
sidered. Men  pull  his  nose,  and  kick  him  out  of  doors  ;  and 
by  peremptory  expressive  methods  signify  that  they  can  and 
will  have  no  trade  with  him.  Such  is  spoken  divergence 
from  the  fact  ;  so  fares  it  with  the  practiser  of  that  sad 
art. 

But  have  we  well  considered  a  divergence  in  thought  from 
what  is  the  fact  ?  Have  we  considered  the  man  whose  very 
thought  is  a  lie  to  him  and  to  us  !  He  too  is  a  frightful  man  ; 
repeating  about  this  Universe  on  every  hand  what  is  not,  and 
driven  to  repeat  it  ;  the  sure  herald  of  ruin  to  all  that  follow 
him,  that  know  with  his  knowledge !  And  would  you  learn 
how  to  get  a  mendacious  thought,  there  is  no  surer  recipe 
than  carrying  a  loose  tongue.  The  lying  thought,  you  already 
either  have  it,  or  will  soon  get  it  by  that  method.  He  who 
lies  with  his  very  tongue,,  he  clearly  enough  has  long  ceased 
to  think  truly  in  his  mind.  Does  he,  in  any  sense,  '  think  '  ? 
All  his  thoughts  and  imaginations,  if  they  extend  beyond  mere 
beaverisms,  astucities  and  sensualisms,  are  false,  incomplete, 
perverse,  untrue  even  to  himself.  He  has  become  a  false 
mirror  of  this  Universe  ;  not  a  small  mirror  only,  but  a 
crooked,  bedimmed  and  utterly  deranged  one.    But  all  loose 


190 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


tongues  too  are  akin  to  lying  ones  ;  are  insincere  at  the  best, 
and  go  rattling  with  little  meaning  ;  the  thought  lying  languid 
at  a  great  distance  behind  them,  if  thought  there  be  behind 
them  at  all.  Gradually  there  will  be  none  or  little  !  How 
can  the  thought  of  such  a  man,  what  he  calls  thought,  be 
other  than  false  ? 

Alas,  the  palpable  liar  with  his  tongue  does  at  least  know 
that  he  is  lying,  and  has  or  might  have  some  faint  vestige  of 
remorse  and  chance  of  amendment  ;  but  the  impalpable  liar, 
whose  tongue  articulates  mere  accepted  commonplaces,  cants 
and  babblement,  which  means  only,  "  Admire  me,  call  me  an 
excellent  stump-orator  !  " — of  him  what  hope  is  there  ?  His 
thought,  what  thought  he  had,  lies  dormant,  inspired  only  to 
invent  vocables  and  plausibilities  ;  while  the  tongue  goes  so 
glib,  the  thought  is  absent,  gone  a- woolgathering  ;  getting  it- 
self drugged  with  the  applausive  '  Hear,  hear  ! ' — what  will  be- 
come of  such  a  man  ?  His  idle  thought  has  run  all  to  seed, 
and  grown  false  and  the  giver  of  falsities  ;  the  inner  light  of 
j  his  mind  is  gone  out ;  all  his  light  is  mere  putridity  and  phos- 
phorescence henceforth.  Whosoever  is  in  quest  of  ruin,  let 
him  with  assurance  follow  that  man  ;  he  or  no  one  is  on  the 
riqht  road  to  it. 

Good  Heavens,  from  the  wisest  Thought  of  a  man  to  the 
actual  truth  of  a  Thing  as  it  lies  in  Nature,  there  is,  one 
would  suppose,  a  sufficient  interval !  Consider  it, — and  what 
other  intervals  we  introduce  !  The  faithful  est,  most  glowing 
word  of  a  man  is  but  an  imperfect  image  of  the  thought,  such 
as  it  is,  that  dwells  within  him  ;  his  best  word  will  never  but 
with  error  convey  his  thought  to  other  minds  :  and  then  be- 
tween his  poor  thought  and  Nature's  Fact,  which  is  the 
Thought  of  the  Eternal,  there  may  be  supposed  to  lie  some 
discrepancies,  some  shortcomings  !  Speak  your  sincerest, 
think  your  wisest,  there  is  still  a  great  gulf  between  you  and 
the  fact.  And  now,  do  nut  speak  your  sincerest,  and,  what 
will  inevitably  follow  out  of  that,  do  not  think  your  wisest,  but 
think  only  your  plausiblest,  your  showiest  for  parliamentary 
purposes,  where  will  you  land  with  that  guidance? — I  invite 
the  British  Parliament,  and  all  the  Parliamentary  and  other 


STUMP-OIZATOR 


191 


Electors  of  Great  Britain,  to  reflect  on  this  till  they  l*ave  well 
understood  it ;  and  then  to  ask,  each  of  himself,  "What  prob- 
ably the  horoscopes  of  the  British  Parliament,  at  this  epoch 
of  World-History,  may  be  ? — 

Fail,  by  any  sin  or  any  misfortune,  to  discover  what  the 
truth  of  the  fact  is,  you  are  lost  so  far  as  that  fact  goes  !  If 
your  thought  do  not  image  truly  but  do  image  falsely  the 
fact,  you  will  vainly  try  to  work  upon  the  fact.  The  fact  will 
not  obey  you,  the  fact  will  silently  resist  you  ;  and  ever,  with 
silent  invincibility,  will  go  on  resisting  you,  till  you  do  get  to 
image  it  truly  instead  of  falsely.  No  help  for  you  whatever, 
except  in  attaining  to  a  true  image  of  the  fact.  Needless  to 
vote  a  false  image  true  ;  vote  it,  revote  it  by  overwhelming 
majorities,  by  jubilant  unanimities  and  universalities  ;  read  it 
thrice  or  three  hundred  times,  pass  acts  of  parliament  upon 
it  till  the  Statute-book  can  hold  no  more, — it  helps  not  a 
whit :  the  thing  is  not  so,  the  thing  is  otherwise  than  so  ;  and 
Adam's  whole  Posterity,  voting  daily  on  it  till  the  world  fin- 
ish, will  not  alter  it  a  jot.  Can  the  sublimest  sanhedrim,  con- 
stitutional parliament,  or  other  Collective  Wisdom  of  the 
world,  persuade  fire  not  to  burn,  sulphuric  acid  to  be  sweet 
milk,  or  the  Moon  to  become  green  cheese  ?  The  fact  is  much 
the  reverse  : — and  even  the  Constitutional  British  Parliament 
abstains  from  such  arduous  attempts  as  these  latter  in  the 
voting  line  ;  and  leaves  the  multiplication-table,  the  chemical, 
mechanical  and  other  qualities  of  material  substances  to  take 
their  own  course  ;  being  aware  that  voting  and  perorating,  and 
reporting  in  Hansard,  will  not  in  the  least  alter  any  of  these. 
"Which  is  indisputably  wise  of  the  British  Parliament. 

Unfortunately  the  British  Parliament  does  not,  at  present, 
quite  know  that  all  manner  of  things  and  relations  of  things, 
spiritual  equally  with  material,  all  manner  of  qualities,  enti- 
ties, existences  whatsoever,  in  this  strange  visible  and  invisi- 
ble Universe,  are  equally  inflexible  of  nature ;  that  they  will, 
one  and  all,  with  precisely  the  same  obstinacy,  continue  to 
obey  their  own  law,  not  our  law ;  deaf  as  the  adder  to  all 
charm  of  parliamentary  eloquence,  and  of  voting  never  so  often 
repeated  ;  silently,  but  inflexibly  and  forevermore,  declining 


192 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


to  change  themselves,  even  as  sulphuric  acid  declines  to  be- 
come sweet  milk,  though  you  vote  so  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
This,  it  sometimes  seems  to  me,  is  not  quite  sufficiently  laid 
hold  of  by  the  British  and  other  Parliaments  just  at  present. 
Which  surely  is  a  great  misfortune  to  said  Parliaments  !  For, 
it  would  appear,  the  grand  point,  after  all  constitutional  im- 
provements, and  such  wagging  of  wigs  in  "Westminster  as 
there  has  been,  is  precisely  what  it  was  before  any  constitu- 
tion was  yet  heard  of,  or  the  first  official  wig  had  budded  out 
of  nothing  :  namely,  to  ascertain  what  the  truth  of  your  ques- 
tion, in  Nature,  really  is !  Verily  so.  In  this  time  and  place, 
as  in  all  past  and  in  all  future  times  and  places.  Today  in 
St.  Stephen's,  where  constitutional,  philanthropical,  and  other 
great  things  lie  in  the  mortarkit ;  even  as  on  the  Plain  of 
Shinar  long  ago,  where  a  certain  Tower,  likewise  of  a  very 
philanthropic  nature,  indeed  one  of  the  desirablest  towers  I 
ever  heard  of,  was  to  be  built, — but  couldn't !  My  friends,  I 
do  not  laugh  ;  truly  I  am  more  inclined  to  weep. 

Get,  by  six-hundred  and  fifty-eight  votes,  or  by  no  vote  at 
all,  by  the  silent  intimation  of  your  own  eyesight  and  under- 
standing given  you  direct  out  of  Heaven,  and  more  sacred  to 
you  than  anything  earthly,  and  than  all  things  earthly, — a 
correct  image  of  the  fact  in  question,  as  God  and  Nature  have 
made  it :  that  is  the  one  thing  needful ;  with  that  it  shall  be 
well  with  you  in  whatsoever  you  have  to  do  with  said  fact. 
Get,  by  the  sublimest  constitutional  methods,  belauded  by  all 
the  world,  an  i?icorrect  image  of  the  fact :  so  shall  it  be 
other  than  well  with  you ;  so  shall  you  have  laud  from  able- 
editors  and  vociferous  masses  of  mistaken  human  creatures  ; 
and  from  the  Nature's  Fact,  continuing  quite  silently  the  same 
as  it  was,  contradiction,  and  that  only.  What  else  ?  Will 
Nature  change,  or  sulphuric  acid  become  sweet  milk,  for  the 
noise  of  vociferous  blockheads  ?  Surely  not.  Nature,  I  as- 
sure you,  has  not  the  smallest  intention  of  doing  so. 

On  the  contrary,  Nature  keeps  silently  a  most  exact  Sav- 
ings-bank, and  official  register,  correct  to  the  most  evanescent 
item,  Debtor  and  Creditor,  in  respect  to  one  and  all  of  us  ; 
silently  marks  down,  Creditor  by  such  and  such  an  unseen 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


193 


act  of  veracity  and  heroism  ;  Debtor  to  such  a  loud  blustery 
blunder,  twenty-seven  million  strong  or  one  unit  strong,  and 
to  all  acts  and  words  and  thoughts  executed  in  consequence  of 
that, — Debtor,  Debtor,  Debtor,  day  after  day,  rigorously  as 
Fate  (for  this  is  Fate  that  is  writing) ;  and  at  the  end  of  the 
account  you  will  have  it  all  to  pay,  my  friend  ;  there  is  the 
rub  !  Not  the  infinitesimalist  fraction  of  a  farthing  but  will 
be  found  marked  there,  for  you  and  against  you ;  and  with 
the  due  rate  of  interest  you  will  have  to  pay  it,  neatly,  com- 
pletely, as  sure  as  you  are  alive.  You  will  have  to  pay  it  even 
in  money  if  you  live  : — and,  poor  slave,  do  you  think  there  is 
no  payment  but  in  money  ?  There  is  a  payment  which  Nat- 
ure rigorously  exacts  of  men,  and  also  of  Nations,  and  this  I 
think  when  her  wrath  is  sternest,  in  the  shape  of  dooming 
you  to  possess  money.  To  possess  it ;  to  have  your  bloated 
vanities  fostered  into  monstrosity  by  it,  }Tour  foul  passions 
blown  into  explosion  by  it,  your  heart  and  perhaps  your  very 
stomach  ruined  with  intoxication  by  it  ;  your  poor  life  and 
all  its  manful  activities  stunned  into  frenzy  and  comatose 
sleep  by  it, — in  one  word,  as  the  old  Prophets  said,  your  soul 
forever  lost  by  it.  Your  soul  ;  so  that,  through  the  Eternities, 
you  shall  have  no  soul,  or  manful  trace  of  ever  having  had  a 
soul ;  but  only,  for  certain  fleeting  moments,  shall  have  had 
a  moneybag,  and  have  given  soul  and  heart  and  (frightfuler 
still)  stomach  itself  in  fatal  exchange  for  the  same.  You 
wretched  mortal,  stumbling  about  in  a  God's  Temple,  and 
thinking  it  a  brutal  Cookery-shop  !  Nature,  when  her  scorn  of 
a  slave  is  divinest,  and  blazes  like  the  blinding  lightning  against 
his  slavehood,  often  enough  flings  him  a  bag  of  money,  si- 
lently saying  :  "  That !  Away  ;  thy  doom  is  that !  " — 

For  no  man,  and  for  no  body  or  biggest  multitude  of  men, 
has  Nature  favour,  if  they  part  company  with  her  facts  and 
her.  Excellent  stump-orator  ;  eloquent  parliamentary  dead- 
dog,  making  motions,  passing  bills  ;  reported  in  the  Morning 
Newspapers,  and  reputed  the  'best  speaker  going'?  From 
the  Universe  of  Fact  he  has  turned  himself  away  ;  he  is  gone 
into  partnership  with  the  Universe  of  Phantasm  ;  finds  it 
profitablest  to  deal  in  forged-notes,  while  the  foolish  shop- 
13 


194 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


keepers  will  accept  them.  Nature  for  such  a  man,  and  for 
Nations  that  follow  such,  has  her  patibulary  forks,  and  prisons 
of  death  everlasting  : — dost  thou  doubt  it  ?  Unhappy  mortal, 
Nature  otherwise  were  herself  a  Chaos  and  no  Cosmos.  Natui'6 
was  not  made  by  an  Impostor ;  not  she,  I  think,  rife  as  they 
are  ! — In  fact,  by  money  or  otherwise,  to  the  uttermost  frac- 
tion of  a  calculable  and  incalculable  value,  we  have,  each  one 
of  us,  to  settle  the  exact  balance  in  the  abovesaid  Savings- 
bank,  or  official  register  kept  by  Nature  :  Creditor  by  the 
quantity  of  veracities  we  have  done,  Debtor  by  the  quantity 
of  falsities  and  errors ;  there  is  not,  by  any  conceivable  de- 
vice, the  faintest  hope  of  escape  from  that  issue  for  one  of  us, 
nor  for  all  of  us. 

This  used  to  be  a  well-known  fact ;  and  daily  still,  in  cer- 
tain edifices,  steeple-houses,  joss-houses,  temples  sacred  or 
other,  everywhere  spread  over  the  world,  we  hear  some  dim 
mumblement  of  an  assertion  that  such  is  still,  what  it  was  al- 
ways and  will  forever  be,  the  fact :  but  meseems  it  has  terri- 
bly fallen  out  of  memory  nevertheless ;  and,  from  Dan  to 
Beersheba,  one  in  vain  looks  out  for  a  man  that  really  in  his 
heart  believes  it.  In  his  heart  he  believes,  as  we  perceive, 
that  scrip  will  yield  dividends  :  but  that  Heaven  too  has  an 
office  of  account,  and  unerringly  marks  down,  against  us  or 
for  us,  whatsoever  thing  we  do  or  say  or  think,  and  treasures 
up  the  same  in  regard  to  every  creature, — this  I  do  not  so 
well  perceive  that  he  believes.  Poor  blockhead,  no :  he  reck- 
ons that  all  payment  is  in  money,  or  approximately  represent- 
able  by  money  ;  finds  money  go  a  strange  course  ;  disbelieves 
the  parson  and  his  Day  of  Judgment ;  discerns  not  that  there 
is  any  judgment  except  in  the  small  or  big  debt  court ;  and 
lives  (for  the  present)  on  that  strange  footing  in  this  Universe. 
The  unhappy  mortal,  what  is  the  use  of  his  '  civilisations  '  and 
his  '  useful  knowledges,'  if  he  have  forgotten  that  beginning 
of  human  knowledge  ;  the  earliest  perception  of  the  awakened 
human  soul  in  this  world  ;  the  first  dictate  of  Heaven's  inspi- 
ration to  all  men  ?  I  cannot  account  him  a  man  any  more  ; 
but  only  a  kind  of  human  beaver,  who  has  acquired  the  art 
of  ciphering.    He  lives  without  rushing  hourly  towards  sui~ 


STUMP- ORATOR. 


195 


cide,  because  his  soul,  with  all  its  noble  aspirations  and  im- 
aginations, is  sunk  at  the  bottom  of  his  stomach,  and  lies  tor- 
pid  there,  unaspiring,  unimagining,  unconsidering,  as  if  it 
were  the  vital  principle  of  a  mere  four-footed  beaver.  A  soul 
of  a  man,  appointed  for  spinning  cotton  and  making  money, 
or,  alas,  for  merely  shooting  grouse  and  gathering  rent ;  to 
whom  Eternity  and  Immortality,  and  all  human  Noblenesses 
and  divine  Facts  that  did  not  tell  upon  the  stock-exchange, 
were  meaningless  fables,  empty  as  the  inarticulate  wind.  He 
will  recover  out  of  that  persuasion  one  day,  or  be  ground  to 
powder,  I  believe  ! — 

To  such  a  pass,  by  our  beaverisms  and  our  mammonisms ; 
by  canting  of  '  prevenient  grace '  everywhere,  and  so  boarding 
and  lodging  our  poor  souls  upon  supervenient  moonshine  ev- 
erywhere, for  centuries  long  ;  by  our  sordid  stupidities  and 
our  idle  babblings  ;  through  faith  in  the  divine  Stump-Orator, 
and  Constitutional  Palaver,  or  august  Sanhedrim  of  Orators, 
— have  men  and  Nations  been  reduced,  in  this  sad  epoch  !  I 
cannot  call  them  happy  Nations ;  I  must  call  them  Nations 
like  to  perish  ;  Nations  that  will  either  begin  to  recover,  or 
else  soon  die.  Recovery  is  to  be  hoped ; — yes,  since  there  is 
in  Nature  an  Almighty  Beneficence,  and  His  voice,  divinely 
terrible,  can  be  heard  in  the  world- whirl  wind  now,  even  as 
from  of  old  and  forevermore.  Recovery,  or  else  destruction 
and  annihilation,  is  very  certain  ;  and  the  crisis,  too,  comes 
rapidly  on :  but  by  Stump-Orator  and  Constitutional  Palaver, 
however  perfected,  my  hopes  of  recovery  have  long  vanished. 
Not  by  them,  I  should  imagine,  but  by  something  far  the  re- 
verse of  them,  shall  we  return  to  truth  and  God  ! — 

I  tell  you,  the  ignoble  intellect  cannot  think  the  truth,  even 
within  its  own  limits,  and  when  it  seriously  tries  !  And  of  the 
ignoble  intellect  that  does  not  seriously  try,  and  has  even 
reached  the  '  ignobleness  '  of  seriously  trying  the  reverse,  and 
of  lying  with  its  very  tongue,  what  are  we  to  expect  ?  It  is 
frightful  to  consider.  Sincere  wise  speech  is  but  an  imperfect 
corollary,  and  insignificant  outer  manifestation,  of  sincere  wise 
thought.  He  whose  very  tongue  utters  falsities,  what  has  his 
heart  long  been  doing  ?    The  thought  of  his  heart  is  not  its 


106 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


wisest,  not  even  its  wisest  ;  it  is  its  foolishest ; — and  even  of 
that  we  have  a  false  and  foolish  copy.  And  it  is  Nature's  Fact, 
or  the  Thought  of  the  Eternal,  which  we  want  to  arrive  at  in 
regard  to  the  matter, — which  if  we  do  not  arrive  at,  we  shall 
not  save  the  matter,  we  shall  drive  the  matter  into  shipwreck  ! 

The  practice  of  modern  Parliaments,  with  reporters  sitting 
among  them,  and  twenty-seven  millions  mostly  fools  listening 
to  them,  fills  me  with  amazement.  In  regard  to  no  thing,  or 
fact  as  God  and  Nature  have  made  it,  can  you  get  so  much  as 
the  real  thought  of  any  honourable  head, — even  so  far  as  it, 
the  said  honourable  head,  still  has  capacity  of  thought.  What 
the  honourable  gentlemen's  wisest  thought  is  or  would  have 
been,  had  he  led  from  birth  a  life  of  piety  and  earnest  veracity 
and  heroic  virtue,  you,  and  he  himself  poor  deep-sunk  creat- 
ure, vainly  conjecture  as  from  immense  dim  distances  far  in 
the  rear  of  what  he  is  led  to  say.  And  again,  far  in  the  rear 
of  what  his  thought  is, — surely  long  infinitudes  beyond  all  he 
could  ever  think, — lies  the  Thought  of  God  Almighty,  the 
Image  itself  of  the  Fact,  the  thing  you  are  in  quest  of,  and 
must  find  or  do  worse  !  Even  his,  the  honourable  gentle- 
man's actual  bewildered,  falsified,  vague  surmise  or  quasi- 
thought,  even  this  is  not  given  you ;  but  only  some  falsified 
cojoy  of  this,  such  as  he  fancies  may  suit  the  reporters  and 
twenty-seven  millions  mostly  fools.    And  upon  that  latter  you 

are  to  act ;  with  what  success,  do  you  expect  ?    That  is 

the  thought  you  are  to  take  for  the  Thought  of  the  Eternal 
Mind, — that  double-distilled  falsity  of  a  blockheadism  from 
one  who  is  false  even  as  a  blockhead  ! 

Do  I  make  myself  plain  to  Mr.  Peter's  understanding  ?  Per- 
haps it  will  surprise  him  less  that  parliamentary  eloquence 
excites  more  wonder  than  admiration  in  me  ;  that  the  fate  of 
countries  governed  by  that  sublime  alchemy  does  not  appear 
the  hopefulest  just  now.  Not  by  that  method,  I  should  ap- 
prehend, will  the  Heavens  be  scaled  and  the  Earth  vanquished  ; 
not  by  that,  but  by  another. 

A  benevolent  man  once  proposed  to  me,  but  without  point- 
ing out  the  methods  how,  this  plan  of  reform  for  our  benighted 


STUMP- OR  AT  OU. 


197 


world  :  To  cut  from  one  generation,  whether  the  current  one 
or  the  next,  all  the  tongues  away,  prohibiting  Literature  too  ; 
and  appoint  at  least  one  generation  to  pass  its  life  in  silence. 
"  There,  thou  one  blessed  generation,  from  the  vain  jargon  of 
babble  thou  art  beneficently  freed.  Whatsoever  of  truth, 
traditionary  or  original,  thy  own  god-given  intellect  shall 
point-out  to  thee  as  true,  that  thou  wilt  go  and  do.  In  doing 
of  it  there  will  be  a  verdict  for  thee  ;  if  a  verdict  of  True,  thou 
wilt  hold  by  it,  and  ever  again  do  it  ;  if  of  Untrue,  thou  wilt 
never  try  it  more,  but  be  eternally  delivered  from  it.  To  do 
aught  because  the  vain  hearsays  order  thee,  and  the  big  clam- 
ours of  the  sanhedrim  of  fools,  is  not  thy  lot, — what  worlds  of 
misery  are  spared  thee  !  Nature's  voice  heard  in  thy  own 
inner  being,  and  the  sacred  Commandment  of  thy  Maker  : 
these  shall  be  thy  guidances,  thou  happy  tongueless  genera- 
tion. What  is  good  and  beautiful  thou  shalt  know ;  not 
merely  what  is  said  to  be  so.  Not  to  talk  of  thy  doings,  and 
become  the  envy  of  surrounding  flunkies,  but  to  taste  of  the 
fruit  of  thy  doings  themselves,  is  thine.  What  the  Eternal 
Laws  will  sanction  for  thee,  do  ;  what  the  Froth  Gospels  and 
multitudinous  long-eared  Hearsays  never  so  loudly  bid,  all 
this  is  already  chaff  for  thee, — drifting  rapidly  along,  thou 
knowest  whitherward,  on  the  eternal  winds." 

Good  Heavens,  if  such  a  plan  were  practicable,  how  the 
chaff  might  be  winnowed  out  of  every  man,  and  out  of  all  hu- 
man things ;  and  ninety-nine  hundredths  of  our  whole  big 
Universe,  spiritual  and  practical,  might  blow  itself  away,  as 
mere  torrents  of  chaff ; — whole  trade-winds  of  chaff,  many 
miles  deep,  rushing  continually  with  the  voice  of  whirlwinds 
towards  a  certain  Fire,  which  knows  how  to  deal  with  it  ! 
Ninety-nine  hundredths  blown  away  ;  all  the  lies  blown  awTay, 
and  some  skeleton  of  a  spiritual  and  practical  Universe  left 
standing  for  us  which  were  true  :  O  Heavens,  is  it  forever  im- 
possible, then  ?  By  a  generation  that  had  no  tongue  it  really 
might  be  done  ;  but  not  so  easily  by  one  that  had.  Tongues, 
platforms,  parliaments,  and  fourth-estates  ;  unfettered  presses, 
periodical  and  stationary  literatures  :  we  are  nearly  all  gone 
to  tongue,  I  think  ;  and  our  fate  is  very  questionable  ! 


198 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


Truly,  it  is  little  known  at  present,  and  ought  forthwith  to 
become  better  known,  what  ruin  to  all  nobleness  and  fruitful- 
ness  and  blessedness  in  the  genius  of  a  poor  mortal  you  gene- 
rally bring  about,  by  ordering  him  to  speak,  to  do  all  things 
with  a  view  to  their  being  seen  !  Few  good  and  fruitful  things 
ever  were  done,  or  could  be  done,  on  those  terms.  Silence, 
silence  ;  and  be  distant  ye  profane,  with  your  jargonings  and 
superficial  babblements,  when  a  man  has  anything  to  do  !  Eye- 
service, — dost  thou  know  what  that  is,  poor  England  ? — eye- 
service  is  all  the  man  can  do  in  these  sad  circumstances  ;  grows 
to  be  all  he  has  the  idea  of  doing,  of  his  or  any  other  man's 
ever  doing,  or  ever  having  done,  in  any  circumstances.  Sad 
enough.  Alas,  it  is  our  saddest  woe  of  all  ; — too  sad  for  being 
spoken  of  at  present,  while  all  or  nearly  all  men  consider  it 
an  imaginary  sorrow  on  my  part ! 

Let  the  young  English  soul,  in  whatever  logic-shop  and 
nonsense-verse  establishment  of  an  Eton,  Oxford,  Edinburgh, 
Halle,  Salamanca,  or  other  High  Finishing-School,  he  may 
be  getting  his  young  idea  taught  how  to  speak  and  spout,  and 
print  sermons  and  review-articles,  and  thereby  show  himself 
and  fond  patrons  that  it  is  an  idea, — lay  this  solemnly  to  heart  ; 
this  is  my  deepest  counsel  to  him  !  The  idea  you  have  once 
spoken,  if  it  even  were  an  idea,  is  no  longer  yours  ;  it  is  gone 
from  you,  so  much  life  and  virtue  is  gone,  and  the  vital  circu- 
lations of  your  self  and  your  destiny  and  activity  are  hence- 
forth deprived  of  it.  If  you  could  not  get  it  spoken,  if  you 
could  still  constrain  it  into  silence,  so  much  the  richer  are  you. 
Better  keep  your  idea  while  you  can :  let  it  still  circulate  i:i 
your  blood,  and  there  fructify  ;  inarticulately  inciting  you  to 
good  activities  ;  giving  to  your  whole  spiritual  life  a  ruddier 
health.  When  the  time  does  come  for  speaking  it,  you  will 
speak  it  all  the  more  concisely,  the  more  expressively,  appro- 
priately ;  and  if  such  a  time  should  never  come,  have  you  not 
already  acted  it,  and  uttered  it  as  no  words  can  ?  Think  of 
this,  my  young  friend  ;  for  there  is  nothing  truer,  nothing 
more  forgotten  in  these  shabby  gold-laced  days.  Inconti* 
nence  is  half  of  all  the  sins  of  man.  And  among  the  many 
kinds  of  that  base  vice,  I  know  none  baser,  or  at  present  half 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


199 


so  fell  and  fatal,  as  that  same  Incontinence  of  Tongue. 
'Public  speaking/  'parliamentary  eloquence  : '  it  is  a  Moloch, 
before  whom  young  souls  are  made  to  pass  through  the  fire. 
They  enter,  weeping  or  rejoicing,  fond  parents  consecrating 
them  to  the  redhot  Idol,  as  to  the  Highest  God  :  and  they 
come  out  spiritually  dead.  Dead  enough ;  to  live  thenceforth 
a  galvanic  life  of  mere  Stump-Oratory  ;  screeching  and  gib- 
bering, words  without  wisdom,  without  veracity,  without  con- 
viction more  than  skin-deep.  A  divine  gift,  that  ?  It  is  a 
thing  admired  by  the  vulgar,  and  rewarded  with  seats  in  the 
Cabinet  and  olher  preciosities ;  but  to  the  wise,  it  is  a  thing 
not  admirable,  not  adorable  ;  unmelodious  rather,  and  ghastly 
and  bodeful,  as  the  speech  of  sheeted  spectres  in  the  streets 
at  midnight ! 

Be  not  a  Public  Orator,  thou  brave  young  British  man,  thou 
that  art  now  growing  to  be  something  :  not  a  Stump  Orator, 
if  thou  canst  help  it.  Appeal  not  to  the  vulgar,  with  its  long- 
ears  and  its  seats  in  the  Cabinet ;  not  by  spoken  words  to  the 
vulgar  ;  hale  the  profane  vulgar,  and  bid  it  begone.  Appeal 
by  silent  work,  by  silent  suffering  if  there  be  no  work,  to  the 
gods,  who  have  nobler  than  seats  in  the  Cabinet  for  thee  ! 
Talent  for  Literature,  thou  hast  such  a  talent  ?  Believe  it  not, 
be  slow  to  believe  it !  To  speak,  or  to  write,  Nature  did  not 
peremptorily  order  thee  ;  but  to  work  she  did.  And  know 
this  :  there  never  was  a  talent  even  for  real  Literature,  not  to 
speak  of  talents  lost  and  damned  in  doing  sham  Literature, 
but  was  primarily  a  talent  for  something  infinitely  better  of 
the  silent  kind.  Of  Literature,  in  all  ways,  be  shy  rather  than 
otherwise,  at  present !  There  where  thou  art,  work,  work  ; 
whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it, — with  the  hand  of  a 
man,  not  of  a  phantasm  ;  be  that  thy  unnoticed  blessedness 
and  exceeding  great  reward.  Thy  words,  let  them  be  few, 
and  well-ordered.  Love  silence  rather  than  speech  in  these 
tragic  days,  when,  for  very  speaking,  the  voice  of  man  has 
fallen  inarticulate  to  man  ;  and  hearts,  in  this  loud  babbling, 
sit  dark  and  dumb  towards  one  another.  Witty, — above  all, 
O  be  not  witty  :  none  of  us  is  bound  to  be  witty,  under  penal- 


200 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


ties ;  to  be  wise  and  true  we  all  are,  under  the  terriblest  pen- 
alties  ! 

Brave  young  friend,  dear  to  me,  and  known  too  in  a  sense, 
though  never  seen,  nor  to  be  seen  by  me, — you  are,  what  lam 
not,  in  the  happy  case  to  learn  to  be  something  and  to  do  some- 
thing, instead  of  eloquently  talking  about  what  has  been  and 
was  done  and  may  be  !  The  old  are  what  they  are,  and  will 
not  alter ;  our  hope  is  in  you.  England's  hope,  and  the 
world's,  is  that  there  may  once  more  be  millions  such,  instead 
of  units  as  now.  Macte  ;  i  fausto  pede.  And  may  future  gen- 
erations, acquainted  again  with  the  silences,  a»d  once  more 
cognisant  of  what  is  noble  and  faithful  and  divine,  look  back 
on  us  with  pity  and  incredulous  astonishment ! 


No.  VI.  PAELIAMENTS. 

[1st  June  1850.] 

By  this  time  it  is  sufficiently  apparent  the  present  Editor  is 
not  one  of  those  who  expect  to  see  the  Country  saved  by  far- 
ther 'reforming'  the  reformed  Parliament  we  have  got.  On 
the  contrary,  he  has  the  sad  conviction  that  from  such  Parlia- 
ment never  so  ingeniously  reformed,  there  can  no  salvation 
come,  but  only  a  speedy  finale  far  different  from  salvation.  It 
is  his  effort  and  desire  to  teach  this  and  the  other  thinking- 
British  man  that  said  finale,  the  advent  namely  of  actual  open 
Anarchy,  cannot  be  distant,  now  when  virtual  disguised  An- 
archy, long-continued  and  waxing  daily,  has  got  to  such  a 
height ;  and  that  the  one  method  of  staving-off  that  fatal  con- 
summation, and  steering  towards  the  Continents  of  the  Fu- 
ture, lies  not  in  the  direction  of  reforming  Parliament,  but  of 
what  he  calls  reforming  Downing  Street ;  a  thing  infinitely 
urgent  to  be  begun,  and  to  be  strenuously  carried  on.  To 
find  a  Parliament  more  and  more  the  express  image  of  the 
People,  could,  unless  the  People  chanced  to  be  wise  as  well  as 
miserable,  give  him  no  satisfaction.  Not  this  at  all ;  but  to 
find  some  sort  of  King,  made  in  the  image  of  God,  who  could 


PARLIAMENTS. 


201 


a  little  achieve  for  the  People,  if  not  their  spoken  wishes,  yet 
their  dumb  wants,  and  what  they  would  at  last  find  to  have 
been  their  instinctive  will. — which  is  a  far  different  matter 
usually,  in  this  babbling  world  of  ours. 

Qualification  movement,  universal- suffrage  movement,  Re- 
form Association,  and  suchlike,  this  Editor  does  not  enjoin 
upon  his  readers  ; — his  readers  whom  (as  every  crow  is  known 
to  think  her  own  eggs  whitest)  he  considers  to  be  a  select 
class,  the  true  Aristocracy  of  England,  capable  of  far  better 
things  than  these.  Which  better  things,  and  not  the  worst, 
it  is  his  heart's  wish  to  urge  them  upon  doing.  And  yet,  alas, 
how  can  he  forbid  any  reader  of  his,  or  of  other  people's,  to 
join  such  suffrage  movement,  or  still  more  distracted  Chartism 
of  Six  Points,  if  it  seem  hopeful  ?  Where  we  are,  is  no  con- 
tinuing. Men  say  :  "  The  finale  must  come,  ought  to  come  ; 
perhaps  the  sooner  it  comes,  it  will  be  the  lighter  to  bear.  If 
the  foul  universal  boil  is  to  go  on  ripening,  under  mere  Leave- 
alone  and  Premiers  of  the  Phantasm  order,  perhaps  the  sooner 
it  bursts,  and  declares  itself  as  universal  gangrene  and  social 
death,  the  better  !  "  Good  Heavens,  have  men  computed  what 
the  bursting-out  of  virtual  disguised  Anarchy  into  open  unde- 
niable Anarchy,  such  as  they  have  in  the  Continental  countries 
just  now,  amounts  to  in  human  affairs  ;  what  a  game  that  of 
trying  for  cure  in  the  Medea's-cauldron  of  Revolution  is  !  Must 
we  also  front  the  Apotheosis  of  Attorneyism  ;  and  know  what 
the  blackest  of  terrestrial  curses  means  ? 

But  if  the  captains  of  the  ship  are  of  that  scandalous  class 
Who  refuse  to  be  warned  except  by  iceberg  counsellors  nudg- 
ing them,  what  are  the  miserable  crew  to  do?  Yes,  the  crew 
had  better  consider  of  that ;  they  have  greatly  too  little  con- 
sidered it  of  late.  They  will  find  that  in  Nature  there  is  no 
Buch  alarming  creature  as  a  Chief  Governor  of  that  humour, 
in  getting  round  a  Cape  Horn  like  this  of  ours  ;  that,  if  pity 
did  not  check  our  rage,  there  is  no  such  traitor  in  the  ship  as 
this  unconscious  one  !  Who,  placidly  assured,  nothing  doubt- 
ing but  he  is  the  friend  of  gods  and  men,  can  stand  with  im- 
perturbable attitude,  quietly  steering,  by  his  old  Whig  and 
other  charts  of  the  British  Channel  (as  if  we  were  still  tJiere  or 


202 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


thereabouts),  into  the  yawning  mouth  of  Chaos,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  world  ;  and  call  it  passing  the  Forelands  in  rough 
weather,  or  getting  into  Cowes,  by  constitutional  methods, 
and  'remedial  measures  suited  to  the  occasion.'  Our  heart's 
pra3rer  in  those  circumstances  is :  From  such  Chief  Governors, 
good  Lord  deliver  us  !  And  if  masses  of  the  desperate  common 
men  before  the  mast  do  invoke  Chartism  rather,  and  invite 
the  iceberg  counsellors  to  nudge  him, — cannot  we  too  well 
understand  it  ?  I  hope,  in  other  quarters  of  the  ship  there  are 
men  who  know  wiser  courses,  and  instead  of  inviting  the  ice- 
berg counsellors  and  Six  Points,  will  direct  all  their  strength 
to  fling  the  Phantasm  Captain  under  hatches.  It  is  with  the 
view  of  aiding  and  encouraging  these  latter  that  we  now  in- 
stitute a  few  considerations  upon  Parliaments  generally. 

Dryasdust  in  his  lumber-masses,  which  he  calls  treatises 
and  histories,  has  not  been  explicit  about  Parliaments  :  but  we 
need  not  doubt,  the  English  Parliament,  as  windy  a  palaver- 
ing and  imaginary  entity  as  it  has  now  grown  to  be,  was  at 
one  time  a  quite  solid  serious  actuality,  met  for  earnest  dis- 
patch of  work  which,  on  the  King's  part  and  the  Common- 
wealth's, needed  absolutely  to  be  done.  Reading  in  Eadmerus 
and  the  dim  old  Books,  one  finds  gradually  that  the  Parlia- 
ment was  at  first  a  most  simple  Assemblage,  quite  cognate  to 
the  situation ;  that  Bed  William,  or  whoever  had  taken  on  him 
the  terrible  task  of  being  King  of  England,  was  wont  to  invite, 
oftenest  about  Christmas  time,  his  subordinate  Kinglets,  Ba- 
rons as  he  called  them,  to  give  him  the  pleasure  of  their  com- 
pany for  a  week  or  two  :  there,  in  earnest  conference  all  morn- 
ing, in  freer  talk  over  Christmas  cheer  all  evening,  in  some 
big  royal  Hall  of  Westminster,  Winchester,  or  wherever  it  might- 
be,  with  log-fires,  huge  rounds  of  roast  and  boiled,  not  lacking 
malmsey  and  other  generous  liquor,  they  took  counsel  concern- 
ing the  arduous  matters  of  the  kingdom.  "  You  Taillebois, 
what  have  you  to  propose  in  this  arduous  matter  ? — Frontde- 
bceuf  has  another  view  ;  thinks,  in  his  southern  counties,  they 
will  go  with  the  Protectionist  movement,  and  repeal  the  malt- 
tax,  the  African  Squadron,  and  the  window-duty  itself. — Pot- 
devin,  what  is  your  opinion  of  the  measure  ;  will  it  hold  in 


PARLIAMENTS. 


203 


your  parts  ?  So,  Fitzurse  disagrees,  then  ! — Tete-d'etoupes, 
speak  out.  And  first,  the  pleasure  of  a  glass  of  wine,  my  in- 
fant ?  *  Thus,  for  a  fortnight's  space,  they  carried  on,  after 

a  human  manner,  their  grand  National  Consult  or  Parliament 
turn  ;  intermingling  Dinner  with  it  (as  is  still  the  modern 
method) ;  debating  everything,  as  Tacitus  describes  the  An- 
cient Germans  to  have  done,  two  times  :  once  sober,  and  once 
what  he  calls  'drunk,' — not  dead-drunk,  but  jolly  round  their 
big  table  ; — that  so  both  sides  of  the  matter  might  be  seen  ; 
and,  midway  between  rash  hope  and  unreasonable  apprehen- 
sion, the  true  decision  of  it  might  be  hit.  To  this  hour  no 
public  matter,  with  whatever  serious  argument,  can  be  settled 
in  England  till  it  have  been  dined  upon,  perhaps  repeatedly 
dined  upon. 

To  King  Rufus  there  could  no  more  natural  method  present 
itself,  of  getting  his  affairs  of  sovereignty  transacted,  than  this 
same.  To  assemble  all  his  working  Sab-kings  about  him ;  and 
gather  in  a  human  manner,  by  the  aid  of  sad  speech  and  of 
cheerful,  what  their  real  notions,  opinions  and  determinations 
were.  No  way  of  making  a  law,  or  of  getting  one  executed 
when  made,  except  by  even  such  a  General  Consult  in  one 
form  or  another. — Naturally  too,  as  in  all  places  where  men 
meet,  there  established  themselves  modes  of  proceeding  in 
this  Christmas  Parliamentum  :  secretaries  from  the  first  were 
needed  there,  strict  record  of  the  results  arrived-at  being  in- 
dispensable :  and  the  methods  of  arriving,  marginally  noted  or 
otherwise,  would  not  be  forgotten  :  such  methods,  with  trials 
of  ever  new  methods,  accumulating,  and  in  the  course  of  con- 
tinual practice  getting  sifted,  rejected,  adopted,  and  committed 
to  record, — the  vast  elaboration,  now  called  Law  of  Parlia- 
ment, Privilege,  Practice  of  Parliament,  and  that  huge  sheep- 
skin quarry,  in  which  Dryasdust  bores  and  grovels  as  if  the 
world's  or  England's  secret  lay  there,  grew  to  be  what  we  see. 

So  likewise  in  the  time  of  the  Edwards,  when  Parliament 
gradually  split  itself  into  Two  Houses  ;  and  Borough  Mem- 
bers and  Knights  of  the  Shire  were  summoned  up  to  answer, 
Whether  they  could  stand  such  and  such  an  impost  ?  and 
took  upon  them  to  answer,  "Yes,  your  Majesty  ;  but  we  have 


204 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


such  and  such  grievances  greatly  in  need  of  redress  first," — 
nothing  could  be  more  natural  and  human  than  such  a  Parlia- 
ment still  was.  And  so,  granting  subsidies,  stating  grievances, 
and  notably  widening  its  field  in  that  latter  direction,  accumu- 
lating new  modes,  and  practices  of  Parliament  greatly  impor- 
tant in  world-history,  the  old  Parliament  continued  an  eminent- 
ly human,  veracious,  and  indispensable  entity,  achieving  real 
work  in  the  Centuries.  Down,  we  may  say,  to  the  Century  of 
Charles  First,  when  being  constrained  by  unforeseen  necessity 
to  do  so,  it  took  suddenly,  like  water  at  the  boiling  point,  a 
quite  immense  development  of  function  ;  and  performed  that 
new  function  too,  to  the  world's  and  its  own  amazement,  in  an 
eminently  human,  authentic  and  effectual  manner, — the  'sup- 
ply '  it  granted  his  Majesty,  this  time  (in  front  of  Whitehall, 
as  it  ultimately  proved),  being  of  a  very  unexpected  yet  by  no 
means  unessential  nature  ;  and  the  '  grievance '  it  now  stated 
for  redress  being  the  transcendent  one  of  Compulsion  towards 
Spiritual  Nightmare,  towards  Canting  Idolatry,  and  Death 
Eternal, — wThich  I  do  not  wonder  that  they  couldn't  endure, 
and  wouldn't !  Which  transcendent  grievance,  it  is  well 
known,  they  did  get  redressed,  in  a  most  conspicuous  manner, 
they,  for  the  time  being  ; — and  so  have  since  set  all  the  world 
upon  similar  but  far  less  hopeful  attempts,  by  methods  which 
appear  the  same,  and  are  not  the  same  but  different. 

This  Long  Parliament  which  conquered  its  King,  and  even 
extinguished  him,  since  he  would  in  no  way  be  quiet  when 
conquered  ;  and  wdiich  thus,  the  first  of  such  Assemblages, 
declared  that  it  was  Sovereign  in  the  Nation,  and  more  royal 
than  any  King  who  could  be  there, — has  set  a  flaming  pattern 
to  all  the  world,  which  now  after  centuries  all  the  world  is 
fruitlessly  bent  to  emulate.  This  ever-memorable  Long  Parlia- 
ment is  definable,  both  in  regard  to  its  destinies  in  Histoiy, 
an  l  to  its  intrinsic  collective  and  individual  worth  among  De- 
liberative Assemblies,  as  the  Acme  of  Parliaments  ;  the  high- 
est that  it  lay  in  them  to  be,  or  to  do,  in  human  affairs.  The 
consummation,  this,  and  slow  cactus-flowerage  of  the  parlia- 
mentary tree  among  mankind,  which  blossoms  only  in  thou- 
sands of  years,  and  is  seen  only  once  by  men  :  the  Father, 


PARLIAMENTS. 


205 


this,  of  all  Congresses,  National  Conventions  and  sublunary 
Parliaments  that  have  since  been. 

But  what  I  had  to  remark  of  this  Long  Parliament,  and  of 
its  English  predecessors  generally  from  the  times  of  Rufus 
downwards,  is  their  perfect  veracity  of  purpose,  their  exact 
adaptation  to  getting  the  business  done  that  was  in  hand. 
Supplies  did,  in  some  way,  need  to  be  granted  ;  grievances, 
such  as  never  fail,  did  in  some  way  need  to  be  stated  and  re- 
dressed. The  silent  Peoples  had  their  Parliament  urn  ;  and 
spake  by  it  to  their  Kings  who  governed  them.  In  all  human 
Government,  wherever  a  man  will  attempt  to  govern  men,  this 
is  a  function  necessary  as  the  breath  of  life  :  and  it  must  be 
said  the  old  European  Populations,  and  the  fortunate  English 
best  of  all,  did  this  function  well.  The  old  Parliaments  were 
authentic  entities  ;  came  upon  indispensable  work  ;  and  were 
in  earnest  to  their  very  finger-ends  about  getting  it  done.  No 
conclave  of  railway  directors,  met  with  closed  doors  upon  the 
sacred  cause  of  scrip  and  dividends,  could  be  more  intent 
upon  the  business  necessary,  or  be  more  appropriate  for  it, 
than  those  old  Parliaments  were. 

In  modern  Parliaments,  again,  indeed  ever  down  from  the 
Long  Parliament,  I  note  a  sad  gradual  falling-off  in  this  mat- 
ter of  '  veracity,' — which,  alas,  means  a  falling-off  in  all  real 
use,  or  possible  advantage,  there  can  be  to  mankind  in  such 
Institutions.  The  Parliament,  if  we  examine  well,  has  irrevo- 
cably lost  certain  of  its  old  functions,  which  it  still  pretends  to 
do  ;  and  has  got  certain  new  functions,  which  it  never  can  do, 
and  yet  pretends  to  be  doing  :  a  doubly  fatal  predicament  for 
the  Parliament.  Its  functions  growing  ever  more  confused  in 
this  twofold  way,  the  position  of  the  Parliament  has  become  a 
false,  and  has  gradually  been  becoming  an  impossible  one,  in 
modern  affairs.  "While  on  the  other  hand,  the  poor  Parlia- 
ment, little  conscious  of  all  that,  and  long  dimly  struggling  to 
remedy  all  that,  and  exist  amidst  it ;  or  in  later  years,  still 
more  fatally  admitting  all  that,  and  quietly  consenting  to  ex- 
ist beside  it  without  remedy, — has  had  to  distort  and  pervert 
*    its  poor  activity  in  all  manner  of  ways  ;  and  at  length  has  dif- 


20G 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


fused  itself  into  oceans  of  windy  talk  reported  in  Hansard ; 
lias  grown,  in  short,  a  National  Palaver  ;  and  is,  as  I  said 
lately,  one  of  the  strangest  entities  this  sun  ever  looked  down 
upon.  For,  I  think,  a  National  Palaver  recognised  as  Sover- 
eign, a  solemn  Convocation  of  all  the  Stump-Orators  in  the 
Nation  to  come  and  govern  us,  was  not  seen  in  the  earth  till 
recently.  I  consider  it  has  been  reserved  for  these  our  Latter 
Generations  ;  a  product  long  ripening  for  us  from  afar  ; — and 
would  fain  hope  that,  like  the  Long  Parliament,  or  acme  and 
consummate  flower  in  any  kind,  it  can  only  be  a  transient 
phenomenon  ! 

Some  functions  that  are  and  continue  real  the  Parliament 
still  has  ; — and  these  it  becomes  infinitely  necessary  to  dis- 
sever, and  extricate  alive,  from  the  ocean  of  unreality  in  which 
they  swim.  Unreality  is  death,  to  Parliaments  and  to  all 
things.  The  real  functions  whatsoever  they  are,  these,  most 
certainly,  are  all  the  good  we  shall  ever  get  of  Parliament  ; 
and  the  question  now  is,  Shall  said  good  be  drowned,  or  not 
be  drowned,  in  the  immeasurable  accompaniment  of  imagi- 
nary functions  which  are  evil  and  falsity,  and  that  only  ? 


In  the  way  of  changed  times  I  note  two  grand  modern 
facts,  omitting  many  minor,  which  have,  one  of  them  irrevo- 
cably, and  the  other  hopelessly  for  the  present,  altered  from 
top  to  bottom  the  function  and  position  of  all  Parliaments  ; 
and  which  do  now  fatally  vitiate  their  procedure  everywhere, 
rendering  much  of  what  they  do  a  superfluity,  a  mere  lrypoc- 
risy,  or  noxious  grimace  ;  and  thus  infecting  even  what  is  real 
in  their  fuDction  with  a  windy  falsity,  lamentable  to  behold 
and  greatly  requiring  to  be  altered :  Pact  first,  the  existence 
of  an  Unfettered  Press,  with  its  perennial  ever-increasing  tor- 
rent of  morning  newspapers,  pamphlets,  books :  fact  second, 
that  there  is  now  no  King  present  in  Parliament;  no  King 
now  there,  the  King  having  vanished, — in  front  of  Whitehall, 
long  since  !  Pact  first  I  take  to  be  unalterable.  Complete 
alteration  of  fact  second  I  discern  to  be  distant,  but  likewise 


PARLIAMENTS. 


207 


to  be  indispensable  and  inevitable  ;  and  to  require  urgently 
here  and  now  (by  New  Downing  Streets  or  otherwise)  a  strenu- 
ous beginning,  from  all  good  citizens  who  would  do  any  re- 
form in  their  generation.  Both  facts  together  have  dislocated 
every -joint  of  the  old  arrangement,  and  made  the  modern 
Parliament  a  new  creature  ;  and  whosoever  means  to  work 
reform  there,  will  either  open  his  eyes,  and  keep  them  open, 
to  both  these  facts,  or  work  only  mischief  and  ruin. 

In  countries  that  can  stand  a  Free  Press, — which  many 
cannot,  but  which  England,  thanks  to  her  long  good  training, 
still  can, — it  is  evident  the  National  Consult  or  real  Parlia- 
mentary Debate  goes  on  of  itself,  everywhere,  continually.  Is 
not  the  Times  newspaper  an  open  Forum,  open  as  never  Fo- 
rum was  before,  where  all  mortals  vent  their  opinion,  state 
their  grievance, — all  manner  of  grievances,  from  loss  of  your 
umbrella  in  a  railway,  to  loss  of  your  honour  and  fortune  by 
unjust  sovereign  persons  ?  One  grand  branch  of  the  Parlia- 
ment's trade  is  evidently  dead  forever  !  And  the  beautiful 
Elective  Parliament  itself  is  nothing  like  so  living  as  it  used 
to  be.  If  we  will  consider  it,  the  essential  truth  of  the  matter 
is,  every  British  man  can  now  elect  himself  to  Parliament 
without  consulting  the  hustings  at  all.  If  there  be  any  vote, 
idea  or  notion  in  him,  on  any  earthly  or  heavenly  thing,  can- 
not he  take  a  pen,  and  therewith  autocratically  pour  forth  the 
same  into  the  ears  and  hearts  of  all  people,  so  far  as  it  will 
go  ?  Precisely  so  far  ;  and,  what  is  a  great  advantage  too,  no 
farther.  The  discussion  of  questions  goes  on,  not  in  St. 
Stephen's  now,  but  from  Dan  to  Beersheba  by  able-editors 
and  articulate-speaking  creatures  that  can  get  others  to  listen 
to  them.  This  is  the  fact ;  and  it  demands  to  be  attended  to 
as  such, — and  will  produce  changes,  I  think,  by  and  by. 

What  is  the  good  of  men  collected,  with  effort,  to  debate 
on  the  benches  of  St.  Stephen's,  now  when  there  is  a  Times 
Newspaper?  Not  the  discussion  of  questions  ;  only  the  ulti- 
mate voting  of  them  (a  very  brief  process,  I  should  think  !) 
requires  to  go  on,  or  can  veritably  go  on,  in  St.  Stephen's 
now.    The  honourable  gentleman  is  oftenest  very  wearisome 


208 


LA  TTER-BA  T  PAMPHLETS. 


in  St.  Stephen's  now  :  his  and  his  Constituency's  Aye  or  No, 
is  all  we  want  of  the  honourable  gentleman  there  ;  all  we  are 
ever  like  to  get  of  him  there, — could  it  but  be  had  without 
admixtures  !  If  your  Lordship  will  reflect  on  it,  you  will  find 
it  an  obsolete  function,  this  debating  one  of  his  ;  useless  in 
these  new  times,  as  a  set  of  riding  postboys  would  be,  along 
the  line  of  the  Great  Western  Railway.  Loving  my  life,  and 
time  which  is  the  stuff  of  life,  I  read  no  Parliamentary  Da' 
bates,  rarely  any  Parliamentary  Speech  ;  but  I  am  told  there 
is  not,  once  in  the  seven  years,  the  smallest  gleam  of  new  in- 
telligence thrown  on  any  matter,  earthly  or  divine,  by  an 
honourable  gentleman  on  his  legs  in  Parliament.  Nothing 
offered  you  but  wearisome,  dreary,  thrice-boiled  colewort ; — 
a  bad  article  at  first,  and  served  and  again  served  in  Newsr 
papers  and  Periodicals  and  other  Literatures,  till  even  the 
inferior  animals  would  recoil  from  it.  Honourable  gentle- 
men have  complained  to  myself  that  under  the  sky  there  was 
not  such  a  bore.  What  is  or  can  be  the  use  of  this,  your 
Lordship  ? 

Let  an  honourable  gentleman  who  has  colewort,  or  stump- 
oratory  of  that  kind,  send  it  direct  to  the  Times  ;  perhaps  they 
will  print  it  for  him,  and  then  all  persons  can  read  it  there 
who  hope  instruction  from  it.  If  the  Times  refuse  to  print  it, 
let  the  honourable  gentleman,  if  still  so  minded,  print  it  at 
his  own  expense  ;  let  him  advertise  it  at  a  penny  the  gross, 
distribute  it  gratis  as  handbill,  or  even  offer  a  small  reward 
per  head  to  any  citizen  that  will  read  it  :  but  if,  after  all,  no 
body  of  citizens  will  read  it  even  for  a  reward,  then  let  the 
honourable  gentleman  retire  into  himself,  and  consider  what 
such  omens  mean  !  So  much  I  take  to  be  fair,  or  at  least  un- 
avoidable in  a  free  country  :  Let  every  creature  try  to  get  his 
opinion  listened  to  ;  and  let  honourable  gentlemen  who  can 
print  their  own  stump-oratory,  and  offer  the  public  a  reward 
for  using  it,  by  all  means  do  so.  But  that,  when  no  human 
being  will  incline  or  even  consent  to  have  their  said  oratory, 
they  can  get  upon  their  legs  in  Parliament  and  pour  it  out 
still,  to  the  burdening  of  many  Newspapers,  to  the  boring  of 
their  fellow-creatures,  and  generally  to  the  despair  of  all 


PARLIAMENTS. 


209 


thinking  citizens  in  the  community :  this  is  and  remains,  I 
must  crave  to  say,  an  infatuation,  and,  whatever  respectablo 
old  coat  you  put  upon  it,  is  fast  growing  a  nuisance  which 
must  be  abated. 

Still  more  important  for  a  Parliament  is  the  question  :  King 
present  there,  or  no  King?  Certain  it  always  is,  and  if  for- 
gotten, it  much  requires  to  be  brought  to  mind,  that  a  Parlia- 
ment acting  in  the  character  of  a  body  to  be  consulted  by  the 
sovereign  ruler,  or  executive  King  of  a  Nation,  differs  im- 
mensely from  a  Parliament  which  is  itself  to  enact  the  sov- 
ereign ruler,  and  to  be  supreme  over  all  things  ;  not  merely 
giving  its  advice,  its  remonstrance,  dissent  or  assent,  and 
leaving  the  ruler  still  to  decide  with  that  new  illumination  ; 
but  deciding  of  itself,  and  by  its  Yes  or  its  No  peremptorily 
ordering  all  things  to  be  or  not  to  be.  These,  I  say,  are  two 
extremely  different  characters  for  a  Parliament  to  enact ;  and 
they  necessitate  all  manner  of  distinctions,  of  the  most  vital 
nature,  in  our  idea  of  a  Parliament ;  so  that  what  applies  with 
full  force  to  a  Parliament  acting  the  former  character,  will  not 
apply  at  all  to  one  enacting  the  latter  :  nay  what  is  of  the 
highest  benefit  in  the  former  kind  of  Parliament,  may  not 
only  in  the  latter  kind  be  of  no  benefit,  but  be  even  of  the 
fatalest  detriment,  and  bring  destruction  to  the  poor  Parlia- 
ment itself  and  to  all  that  depends  thereon. 

It  is  first  of  all,  therefore,  to  be  inquired,  Whether  your 
Parliament  is  actually  in  practise  the  Adviser  of  the  Sov- 
ereign ;  or  is  the  Sovereign  itself  ?  For  the  distinction  is 
profound  ;  goes  down  to  the  very  roots  of  Parliament  and  of 
the  Body  Politic  :  and  if  you  confound  the  two  kinds  of  Par- 
liaments, and  apply  to  the  one  the  psalmodyings  and  cele- 
bratings  of  constitutional  doctors  (very  rife  through  the 
eighteenth  century),  which  were  meant  for  the  other,  and 
were  partly  true  of  the  other,  but  are  altogether  false  of 
this, — you  will  set  forth  in  a  radically  wrong  course,  and  will 
advance  incessantly,  with  whatever  psalmodyings  of  your  own 
or  of  the  world's,  to  a  goal  you  are  like  to  be  much  surprised 
at ! — Under  which  of  these  two  descriptions  the  British  Par- 
liament of  our  time  falls,  no  one  can  need  to  be  informed. 
14 


210 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


Apart  from  certain  thin  fictions,  and  constitutional  cobwebs 
which  it  is  not  expected  any  one  should  not  see  through,  our 
Parliament  is  the  sovereign  ruler  and  real  executive  King  of 
this  Empire  ;  and  constitutional  men,  who  for  a  century  past 
have  been  singing  praises  to  that  sublime  Institution  in  its 
old  character,  are  requested  to  look  at  it  in  this  new  one,  and 
see  what  praises  it  has  earned  for  itself  there.  Hitherto,  in 
these  last  fifteen  years  since  it  has  worked  without  shackle  in 
that  new  character,  one  does  not  find  its  praises  mount  very 
high  !  The  exercise  of  English  Sovereignty,  if  that  mean 
governance  of  the  Twenty-seven  million  British  souls  and 
guidance  of  their  temporal  and  eternal  interests  towards  a 
good  issue,  does  not  seem  to  stand  on  the  very  best  footing 
just  at  present !  Not  as  a  Sovereign  Euler  of  the  Twenty- 
seven  million  British  men,  or  heroic  guide  of  their  temporal 
or  their  eternal  interests,  has  the  reformed  Parliament  dis- 
tinguished itself  as  yet,  but  otherwise  only  if  at  all. 

In  fact,  there  rises  universally  the  complaint,  and  expression 
of  surprise,  That  our  reformed  Parliament  cannot  get  on  with 
any  kind  of  work,  except  that  of  talking,  which  does  not  serve 
much  ;  and  the  Chief  Minister  has  been  heard  lamenting,  in  a 
pathetic  manner,  that  the  Business  of  the  Nation  (meaning 
thereby  the  voting  of  the  supplies)  was  dreadfully  obstructed  ; 
and  that  it  would  be  difficult  for  him  to  accomplish  the  Busi- 
ness of  the  Nation  (meaning  thereby  the  voting  of  the  sup- 
plies), if  honourable  gentlemen  would  not  please  to  hold  their 
tongues  a  little.  It  is  really  pathetic,  after  a  sort  ;  and  unless 
parliamentary  eloquence  will  suffice  the  British  Nation,  and  its 
businesses  and  wants,  one  sees  not  what  is  to  become  of  us  in 
that  direction.  For,  in  fine,  the  tragic  experience  is  dimly 
but  irrepressibly  forcing  itself  on  all  the  world,  that  our 
British  Parliament  does  not  shine  as  Sovereign  Buler  of  the 
British  Nation  ;  that  it  was  excellent  only  as  Adviser  of  the 
Sovereign  Kuler  ;  and  has  not,  somehow  or  other,  the  art  of 
getting  work  done  ;  but  produces  talk  merely,  not  of  the  most 
instructive  sort  for  most  part,  and  in  vortexes  of  talk  is  not 
unlike  to  submerge  itself  and  the  whole  of  us,  if  help  come 
not! 


PARLIAMENTS. 


211 


Mj  own  private  notion,  which  I  invite  all  reformed  British 
citizens  to  reflect  on,  is  and  has  for  a  long  time  been,  That 
this  dim  universal  experience,  which  points  towards  very  tragic 
facts,  will  more  and  more  rapidly  become  a  clear  universal 
experience,  and  disclose  a  tragic  law  of  Nature  little  dreamt 
of  by  constitutional  men  of  these  times.  That  a  Parliament, 
especially  a  Parliament  with  Newspaper  Reporters  firmly  es- 
tablished in  it,  is  an  entity  which  by  its  very  nature  cannot  do 
work,  but  can  do  talk  only, — which  at  times  may  be  needed, 
and  at  other  times  again  may  be  very  needless.  Consider,  in 
fact,  a  body  of  Six-hundred  and  fifty-eight  miscellaneous  per- 
sons set  to  consult  about '  business '  with  Twenty-seven  millions 
mostly  fools  assiduously  listening  to  them,  and  checking  and 
criticising  them  : — was  there  ever  since  the  world  began,  will 
there  ever  be  till  the  world  end,  any  '  business '  accomplished 
in  these  circumstances  ?  The  beginning  of  all  business  every- 
where, as  all  practical  persons  testify,  is  decidedly  this,  That 
every  man  shut  his  mouth,  and  do  not  open  it  again  till  his 
thinking  and  contriving  faculty  have  elaborated  something 
worth  articulating.  Which  rule  will  much  abridge  the  flow 
of  speech  in  such  assemblies !  This,  however,  is  the  prelimi- 
nary fundamental  rule  for  business  ;  and  this,  al  is,  is  precisely 
the  rule  which  cannot  be  attended  to  in  constitutional  Parlia- 
ments. 

Add  now  another  most  unfortunate  condition,  That  your 
Parliamentary  Assembly  is  not  very  much  in  earnest,  not  at 
all  1  dreadfully  in  earnest,'  to  do  even  the  best  it  can  ;  that  in 
general  the  Nation  it  represents  is  no  longer  an  earnest  Na- 
tion, but  a  light,  sceptical,  epicurean  one,  which  for  a  century 
has  gone  along  smirking,  grimacing,  cutting  jokes  about  all 
things,  and  has  not  been  bent  with  dreadful  earnestness  on 
anything  at  all,  except  on  making  money  each  member  of  it 
for  himself  :  here,  certainly  enough,  is  a  Parliament  that  will 
do  no  business  except  such  as  can  be  done  in  sport ;  and  un- 
fortunately, it  is  well  known,  almost  none  can  be  done  in  that 
way.  To  which  Parliament,  in  the  centre  of  such  a  Nation, 
introduce  now  assiduous  Newspaper  Reporters,  and  six  yards 
of  small  type  laid  on  all  breakfast-tables  every  morning  :  alas, 


212 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


are  not  the  Six-hundred  and  fifty-eight  miscellaneous  gentle- 
men, who  sit  to  do  sovereign  business  in  such  circumstances, 
verily  a  self-contradiction,  a  solecism  in  Nature,— Nature 
having  appointed  that  business  shall  not  be  done  in  that  way  ? 
Incapable  they  of  doing  business  ;  capable  of  speech  only,  and 
this  none  of  the  best.  Speech  which,  as  we  can  too  well  see, 
whether  it  be  speech,  to  the  question  and  to  the  wise  men 
near,  or  '  speech  to  Buncombe '  (as  the  Americans  call  it),  to 
the  distant  constituencies  and  the  twenty-seven  millions  mostly 
fools,  will  yearly  grow  more  worthless  as  speech,  and  threaten 
to  finish  by  becoming  burdensome  to  gods  and  men  ! 

So  that  the  sad  conclusion,  which  all  experience,  wherever 
it  has  been  tried,  is  fatally  making  good,  appears  to  be,  That 
Parliaments,  admirable  as  Advising  Bodies,  and  likely  to  be 
in  future  universally  useful  in  that  capacity,  are,  as  Ruling 
and  Sovereign  Bodies,  not  useful,  but  useless  or  worse.  That 
a  Sovereign  with  nine-hundred  or  with  six-hundred  and  fifty- 
eight  heads,  all  set  to  talk  against  each  other  in  the  presence 
of  thirty-four  or  twenty-seven  or  eighteen  millions,  cannot  do 
the  work  of  sovereignty  at  all ;  but  is  smitten  with  eternal  in- 
competence for  that  function  by  the  law  of  Nature  itself. 
Such,  alas,  is  the  sad  conclusion  ;  and  in  England,  and  where- 
ever  else  it  is  tried,  a  sad  experience  will  rapidly  make  it  good. 

Only  perhaps  in  the  United  States,  which  alone  of  coun- 
tries can  do  ivithout  governing, — every  man  being  at  least  able 
to  live,  and  move-off  into  the  wilderness,  let  Congress  jargon 
as  it  will, — can  such  a  form  of  so-called  '  Government '  con- 
tinue, for  any  length  of  time,  to  torment  men  with  the  sem- 
blance, when  the  indispensable  substance  is  not  there.  For 
America,  as  the  citizens  well  know,  is  an  "  unparalleled  coun- 
try,"— with  mud  soil  enough  and  fierce  sun  enough  in  the 
Mississippi  Valley  alone  to  grow  Indian  corn  for  all  the  extant 
Posterity  of  Adam  at  this  time  ; — what  other  country  ever 
stood  in  such  a  case?  '  Speeches  to  Buncombe,'  and  a  con- 
stitutional battle  of  the  Kilkenny  cats,  which  in  other  coun- 
tries are  becoming  tragical  and  unendurable,  may  there  still 
fall  under  the  comical  category.  If  indeed  America  should 
ever  experience  a  higher  call,  as  is  likely,  and  begin  to  fee] 


PARLIAMENTS. 


213 


diviner  wants  than  that  of  Indian  corn  with  abundant  bacon 
and  molasses,  and  unlimited  scope  for  all  citizens  to  hunt 
dollars, — America  too  will  find  that  caucuses,  division-lists, 
stump-oratory  and  speeches  to  Buncombe  will  not  carry  men 
to  the  immortal  gods  ;  that  the  Washington  Congress,  and 
constitutional  battle  of  Kilkenny  cats  is,  there  as  here,  naught 
for  such  objects  ;  quite  incompetent  for  such  ;  and,  in  fine, 
that  said  sublime  constitutional  arrangement  will  require  to 
be  (with  terrible  throes,  and  travail  such  as  few  expect)  re- 
modelled, abridged,  extended,  suppressed  ;  torn  asunder,  put 
together  again  ; — not  without  heroic  labour,  and  effort  quite 
other  than  that  of  the  Stump-Orator  and  the  Revival  Preacher, 
one  day ! 

Thus  if  the  first  grand  branch  of  parliamentary  business, 
that  of  stating  grievances,  has  fallen  to  the  Unfettered  Presses, 
and  become  quite  dead  for  Parliaments,  infecting  them  with 
mere  hypocrisy  when  they  now  try  it, — the  second  or  new 
grand  branch  of  business  intrusted  to  them,  and  passionately 
expected  and  demanded  of  them,  is  one  which  they  cannot 
do  ;  the  attempt  and  pretence  to  do  which  can  only  still 
farther  involve  them  in  hypocrisy,  in  fatal  cecity,  stump-ora- 
tory, futility,  and  the  faster  accelerate  their  doom,  and  ours  if 
we  depend  on  them. 

We  may  take  it  as  a  fact,  and  should  lay  it  to  heart  every- 
where, That  no  Sovereign  Euler  with  six-hundred  and  fifty- 
eight  heads,  set  to  rule  twenty-seven  millions,  by  continually 
talking  in  the  hearing  of  them  all,  can  for  the  life  of  it  make 
a  good  figure  in  that  vocation  ;  but  must  by  nature  make  a 
bad  figure,  and  ever  a  worse  and  worse,  till,  some  good  day, 
by  soft  recession  or  by  rude  propulsion,  as  the  OmnijDotent 
Beneficence  may  direct,  it — get  relieved  from  said  vocation. 

In  the  whole  course  of  History  I  have  h^ard  of  only  two 
Parliaments  of  the  sovereign  sort,  that  die.  the  work  of  sov- 
ereignty with  some  effect :  the  National  Convention,  in  Paris, 
during  the  French  Revolution  ;  and  the  Long  Parliament, 
here  at  London,  during  our  own.  Not  that  the  work,  in  either 
case,  was  perfect  ;  far  enough  from  that ;  but  with  all  imper- 


214 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


fections  it  was  got  done  ;  and  neither  of  these  two  workers 
proved  to  be  quite  futile,  or  a  solecism  in  its  place  in  the 
world.  These  two  Parliaments  succeeded,  and  did  not  fail. 
The  conditions,  however,  were  peculiar  ;  not  likely  to  be  soon 
seen  again. 

In  the  first  place,  of  both  these  Parliaments  it  can  be  said 
that  they  were  '  dreadfully  in  earnest ; '  in  earnest  as  no  Par- 
liaments before  or  since  ever  were.  Nay  indeed,  in  the  end, 
it  had  become  a  matter  of  life  or  death  with  them.  But  apart 
from  that  latter  consideration,  in  the  Long  Parliament  espe- 
cially, nothing  so  astonishes  a  modern  man  as  the  serious,  sol- 
emn, nay  devout,  religiously  earnest  spirit  in  which  almost 
every  member  had  come  up  to  his  task.  For  the  English  was 
yet  a  serious  devout  Nation, — as  in  fact  it  intrinsically  still  is, 
and  ever  tends  and  strives  to  be  ;  this  its  poor  modern  levity, 
sceptical  knowingness,  and  sniffing  grinning  humour,  being 
forced  on  it,  and  sitting  it  very  ill : — ever  a  devout  Nation,  I 
say  ;  and  the  Divine  Presence  yet  irradiated  this  poor  Earth 
and  its  business  to  most  men  ;  and  to  all  Englishmen  the  Par- 
liament, we  can  observe,  was  still  what  their  Temple  was  to 
the  ancient  Hebrews  ;  the  most  august  of  terrestrial  objects, 
into  which  when  a  man  entered,  he  felt  that  he  was  standing 
on  holy  ground.  Literally  so  ;  and  much  is  the  modern  man 
surprised  at  it  ;  and  only  after  much  reluctance  can  he  admit 
it  to  be  credible,  to  be  certain  and  visible  among  our  old 
fathers  there. — In  which  temper  alone,  is  there  not  sure  prom- 
ise of  work  being  done,  under  any  circumstances  whatsoever  ? 
Given  any  lamest  Talking  Parliament,  with  its  Chartisms  or 
its  starving  Irish,  and  a  starving  world  getting  all  into  pike- 
points  round  it  ;  given  the  saddest  natural  solecism  discover- 
able in  the  Earth  or  under  the  Earth  ; — inform  it  with  this 
noble  spirit,  it  will  from  the  first  hour  become  a  less  sad  sole- 
cism ;  it  will,  if  such  divine  spirit  hold  in  it,  and  nerve  its  con- 
tinual efforts,  cease  at  last  to  be  a  solecism,  and  by  self-sac- 
rifice or  otherwise  become  a  veracity,  and  get  itself  adopted 
by  Nature. 

But  secondly,  what  likewise  is  of  immense  significance,  the 
Long  Parliament  had  no  Reporters.    Very  far  from  that ;  no 


PARLIAMENTS. 


215 


Member  himself  durst  so  much  as  whisper  to  any  extraneous 
mortal,  without  leave  given,  what  went  on  within  those  sacred 
wralls.  Solemn  reprimand  from  the  Speaker,  austere  lodg- 
ment in  the  Tower,  if  he  did.  If  a  patriot  stranger,  coming 
up  on  express  pilgrimage  from  the  country,  chance  to  gaze  in 
from  the  Lobby  too  curiously  on  the  august  Assemblage  (as 
once  or  twice  happens),  he  is  instantly  seized  by  the  fit  usher  ; 
led,  pale  as  his  shirt,  into  the  floor  of  the  honourable  House, 
Speaker  Lenthall's  and  four  hundred  other  pairs  of  Olympian 
eyes  transfixing  him,  that  it  be  there  ascertained,  Whether  the 
Tower,  the  Tarpeian  rock,  or  what  in  Nature  or  out  of  it, 
shall  be  the  doom  of  such  a  man !  A  silent  place  withal,  though 
a  talking  one ;  hermetically  sealed  ;  no  whisper  to  be  pub- 
lished of  it,  except  what  the  honourable  House  itself  directs. 
Let  a  modern  honourable  member,  with  his  reporters'  gal- 
lery, his  strangers'  gallery,  his  female  ventilator,  and  twenty- 
seven  millions  mostly  fools  listening  to  him  at  Buncombe, 
while  all  at  hand  are  asleep,  consider  what  a  fact  is  that  old 
one  ! 

But  thirdly,  what  also  is  a  most  important  fact  in  this  ques- 
tion, the  Long  Parliament,  after  not  many  months  of  private 
debating,  split  itself  fairly  into  two  parties  ;  and  the  Opposi- 
tion party  fairly  rode  away,  designing  to  debate  in  another 
manner  thenceforth.  What  an  abatement  of  parliamentary 
eloquence  in  that  one  fact  by  itself,  is  evident  enough  ! 
The  Long  Parliament,  for  all  manner  of  reasons,  for  these 
three  and  for  others  that  could  be  given,  was  an  unexampled 
Parliament — properly  indeed,  as  I  sometimes  define  it,  the 
Father  of  all  Parliaments  which  have  sat  since  in  this  world  ! 

The  French  Convention  did  its  work,  too  ;  and  this  under 
circumstances  intrinsically  similar,  much  as  they  differed  out- 
wardly. No  Parliament  more  '  in  earnest '  ever  sat  in  any 
country  or  time  ;  and  indeed  it  was  the  Parliament  of  a  Na- 
tion all  in  deadly  earnest ;  gambling  against  the  world  for  life 
or  for  death.  The  Convention  had  indeed  Reporters  ;  and 
encountered  much  parliamentary  eloquence  at  its  starting, 
and  underwent  strange  handlings  and  destinies  in  conse- 


216 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


quence  ;  but  we  know  how  it  managed  with  its  parliamentary 
eloquence,  and  got  that  reduced  to  limits,  when  once  business 
did  behove  to  be  done !  The  Convention,  its  Girondins  and 
opposition  parties  once  thrown  out,  had  its  Committee  of  So* 
lat  Publique,  consisting  of  Twelve,  of  Nine,  or  even  properly 
of  Three  ;  in  whose  hands  lay  all  sovereign  business,  and  the 
whole  terrible  task  of  ascertaining  what  was  to  be  done.  Of 
which  latter,  the  latter  being  itself  so  immense,  so  swift  and 
imperatively  needful,  all  parliamentary  eloquence  was  to  be 
the  enforcement  and  publisher  and  recorder  merely.  And 
whatever  eloquent  heads  chose  to  obstruct  this  sovereign 
Committee,  the  Convention  had  its  guillotine,  and  swiftly  rid 
itself  of  these  and  of  their  eloquence.  Whereby  business 
went  on,  without  let  on  that  side  ;  and  actually  got  itself 
done  ! 

These  are  the  only  instances  I  know,  of  Parliaments  that 
succeeded  in  the  business  of  Government ;  and  these  I  think 
are  not  inviting  instances  to  the  British  reformer  of  this  day. 
Rather  what  we  may  call  paroxysms  of  parliamentary  life, 
than  instances  of  what  could  be  continuously  expected  of  any 
Parliament, — or  perhaps  even  transiently  wished  of  any. 
They  were  the  appropriate,  and  as  it  proved,  the  effectual  or- 
ganism for  Periods  of  a  quite  transcendent  character  in  Na- 
tional Life  ;  such  as  it  is  not  either  likely  or  desirable  that 
we  should  see,  except  at  very  long  intervals,  in  human  affairs. 

The  fact  is,  Parliaments  have  had  two  great  blows,  in  mod- 
ern times  ;  and  are  now  in  a  manner  quite  shorn  of  their 
real  strength,  and  what  is  still  worse,  invested  with  an  imag- 
inary. Faust  of  Mentz,  when  he  invented  '  movable  tj'pes,' 
inflicted  a  terrible  blow  on  Parliaments ;  suddenly,  though 
yet  afar  off,  reducing  them  to  a  mere  scantling  of  their  former 
self,  and  taking  all  the  best  business  out  of  their  hands. 
Then  again  John  Bradshaw,  when  he  ordered  the  hereditary 
King  to  vanish,  in  front  of  Whitehall,  and  proclaimed  that 
Parliament  itself  was  King, — John,  little  conscious  of  it,  in- 
flicted a  still  more  terrible  blow  on  Parliaments  ;  appointing 
them  to  do  (especially  with  Faust  too,  or  the  Morning  News- 


PARLIAMENTS. 


217 


paper,  gradually  getting  in)  what  Nature  and  Fact  had  de- 
cided they  could  never  do.  In  which  doubly  fatal  state,  with 
Faust  busier  than  ever  among  them,  they  continue  at  this  mo- 
ment,— working  towards  strange  issues,  I  do  believe  ! 

Or,  speaking  in  less  figurative  language,  our  conclusion  is, 
first,  That  Parliaments,  while  they  continued,  as  our  English 
ones  long  did,  mere  Advisers  of  the  Sovereign  Euler,  were  in- 
valuable institutions  ;  and  did,  especially  in  periods  when  there 
was  no  Times  Newspaper,  or  other  general  Forum  free  to  every 
citizen  who  had  three  fingers  and  a  smattering  of  grammar, — 
deserve  well  of  mankind,  and  achieve  services  for  which  we 
should  be  always  grateful.  This  is  conclusion  first.  But  then, 
alas,  equally  irrefragable  comes  conclusion  second,  That  Par- 
liaments when  they  get  to  try,  as  our  poor  British  one  now 
does,  the  art  of  governing  by  themselves  as  the  Supreme  Body 
in  the  Nation,  make  no  figure  in  that  capacity,  and  can  make 
none,  but  by  the  very  nature  of  the  case  are  unable  to  do  it. 
Only  two  instances  are  on  record  of  Parliaments  having,  in  any 
circumstances,  succeeded  as  Governing  Bodies  ;  and  it  is  even 
hoped,  or  ought  to  be,  by  men  generally,  that  there  may  not 
for  another  thousand  years  be  a  third  ! 

As  not  only  our  poor  British  Parliament  of  those,  years  and 
decades,  but  all  the  sudden  European  Parliaments  at  Paris, 
Frankfort,  Erfurt  and  elsewhere,  are  Parliaments  which  un- 
dertake that  second  or  impossible  function  of  governing  as 
Parliaments,  and  must  either  do  it,  or  sink  in  black  anarchy 
one  knows  not  whitherward, — the  horoscope  of  Parliaments 
is  by  no  means  cheering  at  present ;  and  good  citizens  may 
justly  shudder,  if  their  anticipations  point  that  way,  at  the 
prospect  of  a  Chartist  Parliament  here.  For  your  Chartist 
Parliament  is  properly  the  consummation  of  that  fatal  ten- 
dency, towards  the  above-mentioned  impossible  function,  on 
the  part  of  Parliaments.  A  tendency  not  yet  consummated 
with  us ;  for  we  still  have  other  fragments  of  old  Authority 
lodged  elsewhere  than  in  the  Parliament,  wThich  still  struggle 
here  and  there  to  accomplish  a  little  governing,  though  under 
strange  conditions  :  and  to  instal  a  Parliament  of  the  Six 
Points  would  be  precisely  to  extinguish  with  the  utmost 


218 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


rapidity  all  such  fragments,  and  solemnly  by  National  Charter 
and  Six  Points  to  bid  the  Parliament,  "  Be  supreme  King- 
over  us,  thou,  in  all  respects  ;  and  rule  us,  thou, — since  it  is 
impossible  for  thee  !  " 

These  are  serious  considerations,  sufficient  to  create  alarm 
and  astonishment  in  any  constitutional  man.  But  really  it 
grows  late  in  the  day  with  constitutional  men  ;  and  it  is  time 
for  them  to  look  up  from  their  Delolme.  If  the  constitutional 
man  will  take  the  old  Delolme -Ben  tham  spectacles  off  his  nose, 
and  look  abroad  into  the  Fact  itself  with  such  eyes  as  he  may 
have,  I  consider  he  will  find  that  reform  in  matters  social  does 
not  now  mean,  as  he  has  long  sleepily  fancied,  reform  in  Par- 
liament alone  or  chiefly  or  perhaps  at  all.  My  alarming  mes- 
sage to  him  is,  that  the  thing  we  vitally  need  is  not  a  more 
and  more  perfectly  elected  Parliament,  but  some  reality  of  a 
Ruling  Sovereign  to  preside  over  Parliament ;  that  we  have 
already  got  the  former  entity  in  some  measure,  but  that  we  are 
farther  than  ever  from  the  road  towards  the  latter  ;  and  that 
if  the  latter  be  missed  and  not  got,  there  is  no  life  possible 
for  us.  A  New  Downing  Street,  an  infinitely  reformed  Gov- 
erning Apparatus  ;  there  some  hope  might  lie.  A  Parliament, 
any  conceivable  Parliament,  continuing  to  attempt  the  func- 
tion of  Governor,  can  lead  us  only  into  No-Government  which 
is  called  Anarchy  ;  and  the  more  '  reformed  '  or  Democratic 
you  make  it,  the  swifter  will  such  consummation  be. 


Men's  hopes  from  a  Democratic  or  otherwise  reformed  Par- 
liament are  various,  and  rather  vague  at  present ;  but  surely 
this,  as  the  ultimate  essence,  lies  and  has  always  lain  in  the 
heart  of  them  all :  That  hereby  we  shall  succeed  better  in 
doing  the  commandment  of  Heaven,  instead  of  everywhere 
violating  or  ignoring  Heaven's  commandment,  and  incurring 
Heaven's  curse,  as  now.  To  ascertain  better  and  better  what 
the  will  of  the  Eternal  was  and  is  with  us,  what  the  Laws  of 
the  Eternal  are,  all  Parliaments,  Ecumenic  Councils,  Con- 


PARLIAMENTS. 


219 


gresses,  and  other  Collective  Wisdoms,  have  had  this  for  their 
object.  This  or  else  nothing  easily  conceivable, — except  to 
merit  damnation  for  themselves,  and  to  get  it  too  !  Neverthe- 
less, in  the  inexplicable  universal  votings  and  debatings  of 
these  Ages,  an  idea  or  rather  a  dumb  presumption  to  the 
contrary  has  gone  idly  abroad  ;  and  at  this  day,  over  exten- 
sive tracts  of  the  world,  poor  human  beings  are  to  be  found, 
whose  practical  belief  it  is  that  if  we  '  vote '  this  or  that,  so 
this  or  that  will  thenceforth  be.  "  Who's  to  decide  it  ? " 
they  all  ask,  as  if  the  whole  or  chief  question  lay  there. 
"Who's  to  decide  it?"  asks  the  irritated  British  citizen,  with 
a  sneer  in  his  tone.  "  Who's  to  decide  it  ?  "  asks  he,  oftener 
than  any  other  question  of  me.  Decide  it,  O  irritated  British 
citizen  ?  Why,  thou,  and  I,  and  each  man  into  whose  living 
soul  the  Almighty  has  breathed  a  gleam  of  understanding  ; 
we  are  all,  and  each  of  us  for  his  own  self,  to  decide  it :  and 
woe  will  befall  us,  each  and  all,  if  we  don't  decide  it  aright ; 
according  as  the  Almighty  has  already  '  decided  '  it,  as  it  has 
been  appointed  to  be  and  to  continue,  before  all  human  de- 
cidings  and  after  them  all ! — 

Practically  men  have  come  to  imagine  that  the  Laws  of 
this  Universe,  like  the  laws  of  constitutional  countries,  are 
decided  by  voting  ;  that  it  is  all  a  study  of  division-lists,  and 
for  the  Universe  too,  depends  a  little  on  the  activity  of  the 
whipper-in.  It  is  an  idle  fancy.  The  Laws  of  this  Universe, 
of  which  if  the  Laws  of  England  are  not  an  exact  transcript, 
they  should  passionately  study  to  become  such,  are  fixed  by 
the  everlasting  congruity  of  things,  and  are  not  fixable  or 
changeable  by  voting  !  Neither  properly,  we  say,  are  the 
Laws  of  England,  or  those  of  any  other  land  never  so  repub- 
lican or  red-republican,  fixable  or  changeable  by  that  poor 
foolish  process  ;  not  at  all,  O  constitutional  Peter,  much  as  it 
may  astonish  you  !  Voting  is  a  method  we  have  agreed  upon 
for  settling  temporary  discrepancies  of  opinion  as  to  what  is 
law  or  not  law,  in  this  small  section  of  the  Universe  called 
England  :  a  good  temporary  method,  possessing  some  advan- 
tages ;  which  does  settle  the  discrepancy  for  the  moment. 
Nay,  if  the  votings  were  sincere  and  loyal,  we  might  have 


220 


LATTER- DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


some  chance  withal  of  being  right  as  to  the  question,  and  of 
settling  it  blessedly  forever  ; — though  again,  if  the  votings  are 
insincere,  selfish,  almost  professedly  disloyal,  and  given  under 
the  influence  of  beer  and  balderdash,  we  have  the  propor- 
tionate sad  chance  of  being  wrong,  and  so  settling  it  under 
curses,  to  be  fearfully  unsettled  again  ! 

For  I  must  remark  to  you,  and  reiterate  to  you,  that  a  con- 
tinued series  of  votings  transacted  incessantly  for  sessions 
long,  with  three-times-three  readings,  and  royal  assants  as 
many  as  you  like,  cannot  make  a  law  the  thing  which  is  no 
law.  No,  that  lies  beyond  them.  They  can  make  it  a  sheep- 
skin Act  of  Parliament ;  and  even  hang  men  (though  now 
with  difficulty)  for  not  obeying  it : — and  this  they  reckon 
enough  ;  the  idle  fools  !  I  tell  you  and  them,  it  is  a  misera- 
ble blunder,  this  self-styled  '  law '  of  theirs  ;  and  I  for  one 
will  study  either  to  have  no  concern  with  it,  or  else  by  all 
judicious  methods  to  disohej  said  blundering  impious  pre- 
tended 'law.'  In  which  sad  course  of  conduct,  very  unpleas- 
ant to  my  feelings,  but  needful  at  such  times,  the  gods  and  all 
good  men,  and  virtually  these  idle  fools  themselves,  will  be  on 
my  side  ;  and  so  I  shall  succeed  at  length,  in  spite  of  obsta- 
cles ;  and  the  pretended  '  law '  will  take  down  its  gibbet- 
ropes,  and  abrogate  itself,  and  march,  with  the  town-drum 
beating  in  the  rear  of  it,  and  beadles  scourging  the  back  of  it, 
and  ignominious  idle  clamour  escorting  it,  to  Chaos,  one  day  ; 
and  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  Father  of  Delusions,  Devil,  or 
whatever  his  name  be,  who  is  and  was  always  its  true  pro- 
prietor, will  again  hold  possession  of  it, — much  good  may  it 
do  him  ! 

My  friend,  do  you  think,  had  the  united  Posterity  of  Adam 
voted,  and  since  the  Creation  done  nothing  but  vote,  that 
three  and  three  were  seven, — would  this  have  altered  the 
laws  of  arithmetic  ;  or  put  to  the  blush  the  solitary  Cocker  who 
continued  to  assert  privately  that  three  and  three  were  six  ?  I 
consider,  not.  And  is  arithmetic,  think  you,  a  thing  more 
fixed  by  the  Eternal,  than  the  laws  of  justice  are,  and  what 
the  right  is  of  man  towards  man  ?  The  builder  of  this  world 
was  Wisdom  and  Divine  Foresight,  not  Folly  and  Chaotic  Ac- 


PARLIAMENTS. 


221 


cident.  Eternal  Law  is  silently  present,  everywhere  and 
everywhen.  By  Law  the  Planets  gyrate  in  their  orbits  ; — by 
some  approach  to  Law  the  Street-Cabs  ply  in  their  thorough- 
fares. No  pin's  point  can  you  mark  within  the  wide  circle  of 
the  All  where  God's  Laws  are  not.  Unknown  to  you,  or 
known  (you  had  better  try  to  know  them  a  little  !)— inflexible, 
righteous,  eternal ;  not  to  be  questioned  by  the  sons  of  men. 
Wretched  being,  do  you  hope  to  prosper  by  assembling  six- 
hundred  and  fifty-eight  poor  creatures  in  a  certain  apartment, 
and  getting  them,  after  debate,  and  "  Divide, — 'vide, —  vide," 
and  report  in  the  Times,  to  vote  that  what  is  not  is  ?  You 
will  carry  it,  you,  by  your  voting  and  your  eloquencing  and 
babbling  ;  and  the  adamantine  basis  of  the  Universe  shall 
bend  to  your  third  reading,  and  paltry  bit  of  engrossed  sheep- 
skin and  dog-latin  ?    What  will  become  of  you  ? 

Unless  perhaps  the  Almighty  Maker  has  forgotten  this  mis- 
erable anthill  of  a  Westminster,  of  an  England  ;  and  has  no 
Laws  in  force  here  which  are  of  moment  to  him  ?  Not  here 
and  now  ;  only  in  Judea,  and  distant  countries  at  remote  pe- 
riods of  time?  Confess  it,  Peter,  you  have  some  cowardly 
notion  to  that  effect,  though  ashamed  to  say  so  !  Miserable 
soul !  Don't  you  notice  gravitation  here,  the  law  of  birth  and 
of  death,  and  other  laws  ?  Peter,  do  you  know  why  the  Age 
of  Miracles  is  past  ?  Because  you  are  become  an  enchanted 
human  ass  (I  grieve  to  say  it) ;  and  merely  bray  parliamentary 
eloquence  ;  rejoice  in  chewed  gorse,  scrip  coupons,  or  the 
like  ;  and  have  no  discernible  'Beligion,'  except  a  degraded 
species  of  Phallus- Worship,  whose  liturgy  is  in  the  Circulating 
Libraries  ! 

In  Parliaments,  Constitutional  Conclaves  and  Collective 
Wisdoms,  it  is  too  fatally  certain  there  have  been  many  things 
approved  of,  which  it  was  found  on  trial  Nature  did  not  ap- 
prove but  disapprove.  Nature  told  the  individual  trying  to 
lead  his  life  by  such  rule,  No  ;  the  Nation  of  individuals,  No. 
"  Not  this  way,  my  children,  though  the  wigs  that  prescribed 
it  were  of  great  size,  and  the  bo  wo  wing  they  enforced  it  with 
was  loud  ;  not  by  this  way  is  victory  and  blessedness  attain- 


222 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


able  ;  by  other  ways  than  this.  Only  stagnation,  degradation, 
choked  sewers,  want  of  potatoes,  uncultivated  heaths,  over- 
turned mud-cabins,  and  at  length  Chartism,  street-barricades, 
Ked  Republic,  and  Chaos  come  again,  will  prove  attainable 
by  this  !  " 

Here  below  there  is  but  one  thing  needful  ;  one  thing  ; — 
and  that  one  will  in  nowise  consent  to  be  dispensed  with ! 
He  that  can  ascertain,  in  England  or  elsewhere,  what  the  laws 
of  the  Eternal  are  and  walk  by  them  voted  for  or  unvoted, 
with  him  it  will  be  well ;  with  him  that  misses  said  laws,  and 
only  gets  himself  voted  for,  not  well.  Voting,  in  fact,  O 
Peter,  is  a  thing  I  value  but  little  in  any  time,  and  almost  at 
zero  in  this.  Not  a  divine  thing  at  all,  my  poor  friend,  but  a 
human  ;  and  in  the  beer-and-balderdash  case,  whatever  con- 
stitutional doctors  may  say,  almost  a  brutal.  Voting,  never  a 
divine  Apollo,  was  once  a  human  Bottom  the  Weaver  ;  and, 
so  long  as  he  continued  in  the  sane  and  sincere  state,  was 
worth  consulting  about  several  things.  But  alas,  enveloped 
now  in  mere  stump-oratory,  cecity,  mutinous  imbecility,  and 
sin  and  misery,  he  is  now  an  enchanted  Weaver, — wooed  by 
the  fatuous  Queen  of  constitutional  Faery, — and  feels  his 
cheek  hairy  to  the  scratch.  Beer  rules  him,  and  the  Infinite 
of  Balderdash  ;  and  except  as  a  horse  might  vote  for  tares  or 
hard  beans,  he  had  better,  till  he  grow  wise  again,  hardly  vote 
at  all.  I  will  thank  thee  to  take  him  away,  into  his  own  place, 
which  is  very  low  down  indeed ;  and  to  put  in  the  upper  place 
something  infinitely  worthier.  You  ask  what  thing ;  in  a 
triumphant  manner,  with  erect  ear  and  curved  tail,  O  hapless 
quadruped  ?  How  can  I  tell  you  what  thing  ?  I  myself  know 
it,  and  every  soul  still  human  knows  it,  or  may  know  ;  but  to 
the  soul  that  has  fallen  asinine,  and  thinks  the  Laws  of  God 
are  to  be  voted  for,  it  is  unknowable. 

'  If  of  ten  men  nine  are  recognisable  as  fools,  which  is  a  com- 
mon calculation,'  says  our  Intermittent  Friend,  '  how,  in  the 
name  of  wonder,  will  you  ever  get  a  ballot-box  to  grind  you 
out  a  wisdom  from  the  votes  of  these  ten  men  ?  Never  by  any 
conceivable  ballot-box,  nor  by  all  the  machinery  in  Brom- 


PARLIAMENTS. 


223 


wicham  or  out  of  it,  will  you  attain  such  a  result.  Not  by 
any  method  under  Heaven,  except  by  suppressing,  and  in 
some  good  way  reducing  to  zero,  nine  of  those  votes,  can  wis- 
dom ever  issue  from  your  ten. 

'  Why  men  have  got  so  universally  into  such  a  fond  expecta- 
tion ?  The  reason  might  lead  us  far.  The  reason,  alas,  is, 
men  have,  to  a  degree  never  before  exampled,  forgotten  that 
there  is  fixed  eternal  law  in  this  Universe  ;  that  except  by 
coming  upon  the  dictates  of  that,  no  success  is  possible  for 
any  nation  or  creature.  That  we  should  have  forgotten  this, 
- — alas,  here  is  an  abyss  of  vacuity  in  our  much-admired  opu- 
lence, which  the  more  it  is  looked  at  saddens  the  thinking 
heart  the  more. 

'And  yet,' continues  he  elsewhere,  '  it  is  unavoidable  and 
indispensable  at  present.  With  voting  and  ballot-boxing  who 
can  quarrel,  as  the  matter  stands  ?  I  pass  it  without  quarrel ; 
nay  say  respectfully,  "  Good  speed  to  you,  poor  friends  : 
Heaven  send  you  not  only  a  good  voting-box,  but  something 
worth  voting  for  !  Sad  function  yours,  giving  plumpers  or 
split-votes  for  or  against  such  a  pair  of  human  beings,  and 
such  a  set  of  human  causes.    Adieu  !  "  ' 


And  yet  surely,  not  in  England  only,  where  the  Institution 
is  like  a  second  nature  to  us,  but  in  all  countries  where  men 
have  attained  any  civilization,  it  is  good  that  there  be  a  Par- 
liament. Morning  Newspapers,  and  other  temporary  or  per- 
manent changes  of  circumstances,  may  much  change  and 
almost  infinitely  abridge  its  function,  but  they  never  can  abol- 
ish it.  Under  whatever  reformed  Downing  Street,  or  indis- 
pensable new  King,  of  these  New  Eras,  England  be  governed, 
its  Parliament  too  will  continue  indispensable.  And  it  is 
much  to  be  desired  that  all  men  saw  clearly  what  the  Parlia- 
ment's real  function,  in  these  changed  times  of  newspaper  re- 
porters and  imaginary  kings,  had  grown  to  be.  We  must  set  it 
to  its  real  function  ;  and,  at  our  peril  and  its,  restrict  it  to  that ! 
Its  real  function  is  the  maximum  of  all  we  shall  be  able  to  get 


224 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


out  of  it.  Wrap  it  in  never  so  many  sheepskins,  and  venerabil- 
ities  of  use-and-wont,  you  will  not  get  it  persuaded  to  do  what 
its  real  function  is  not.  Endless  derangement,  spreading  into 
futility  on  every  side,  and  ultimate  ruin  even  to  its  real  func- 
tion, will  result  to  you  from  setting  it  to  work  against  what 
Nature  and  Fact  have  appointed  for  it.  Your  Dra}r- wagon,  ex- 
cellent for  carting  beer  along  the  streets, — start  not  with  it 
from  the  chimney-tops,  as  Chariot  of  the  Sun  ;  for  it  will  not 
act  in  that  capacity  ! — 

As  a  'Collective  Wisdom  '  of  Nations  the  talking  Parliament, 
I  discern  too  well,  can  never  more  serve.  Wisdom  dwells  not 
with  stump-oratory  ;  to  the  stump-orator  Wisdom  has  waved 
her  sad  and  peremptory  farewell.  A  Parliament,  speaking 
through  reporters  to  Buncombe  and  the  Twenty-seven  mill- 
ions mostly  fools,  has  properly  given  up  that  function  ;  that  is 
not  now  the  function  it  attempts.  But  even  as  the  Condensed 
Folly  of  Nations  ;  Folly  bound-  up  into  articulate  masses, 
and  able  to  say  Yes  and  No  for  itself,  it  will  much  avail  the 
Governing  Man  !  To  know  at  what  pitch  the  widespread 
Folly  of  the  Nation  now  stands,  what  may  safely  be  attempted 
with  said  Folly,  and  what  not  safely  :  this  too  is  very  indis- 
pensable for  the  Governing  Man.  Below  this  function,  in  the 
maddest  times  and  with  Faust  of  Mentz  reverberating  every 
madness  ad  infinitum,  no  Parliament  can  fall. 

Votes  of  men  are  worth  collecting,  if  convenient.  True, 
their  opinions  are  generally  of  little  wisdom,  and  can  on  occa- 
sion reach  to  all  conceivable  and  inconceivable  degrees  of 
folly  ;  but  their  instincts,  where  these  can  be  deciphered,  are 
wise  and  human  ;  these,  hidden  under  the  noisy  utterance  of 
what  they  call  their  opinions,  are  the  unspoken  sense  of  mans 
heart,  and  well  deserve  attending  to.  Know  well  what  the 
people  inarticulately  feel,  for  the  Law  of  Heaven  itself  is  dimly 
written  there  ;  nay  do  not  neglect,  if  you  have  opportunity,  to 
ascertain  what  they  vote  and  say.  One  thing  the  stupidest 
multitude  at  a  hustings  can  do,  provided  only  it  be  sincere : 
Inform  you  how  it  likes  this  man  or  that,  this  proposed  law 
or  that.  "  I  do  not  like  thee,  Dr.  Fell ;  the  reason  why  I  can- 
not tell," — and  perhaps  indeed  there  is  no  reason  ;  neverthe- 


PARLIAMENTS. 


225 


less  let  the  Governor  too  be  thankful  to  know  the  fact,  '  full 
well ; '  for  it  may  be  useful  to  him.  Nay  the  multitude,  even 
when  its  nonsense  is  not  sincere,  but  produced  in  great  part 
by  beer  and  stump-orator}7,  will  yet  by  the  very  act  of  voting 
feel  itself  bound  in  honour  ;  and  so  even  in  that  case  it  ap- 
prises you,  "  Such  a  man,  such  a  law,  will  I  accept,  being  per- 
suaded thereto  by  beer  and  stump-oratory,  and  having  polled 
at  hustings  for  the  same." 

Beyond  doubt  it  will  be  useful,  will  be  indispensable,  for 
the  King  or  Governor  to  know  what  the  mass  of  men  think 
upon  public  questions  legislative  and  administrative  ;  what 
they  will  assent  to  willingly,  what  unwillingly  ;  what  they  will 
resist  with  superficial  discontents  and  remonstrances,  what 
with  obstinate  determination,  with  riot,  perhaps  with  armed 
rebellion.  No  Governor  otherwise  can  go  along  with  clear 
illumination  on  his  path,  however  plain  the  loadstar  and  ul- 
terior goal  be  to  him  ;  but  at  every  step  he  must  be  liable 
to  fall  into  the  ditch  ;  to  awaken  he  knows  not  what  nests  of 
hornets,  what  sleeping  dogkennels,  better  to  be  avoided.  By 
all  manner  of  means  let  the  Governor  inform  himself  of  all 
this.  To  which  end,  Parliaments,  Free  Presses,  and  suchlike 
are  excellent  :  they  keep  the  Governor  fully  aware  of  what  the 
People,  wisely  or  foolishly,  think.  Without  in  some  way 
knowing  it  with  moderate  exactitude,  he  has  not  a  ji>ossibility 
to  govern  at  all.  For  example,  the  Chief  Governor  of  Con- 
stantinople, having  no  Parliament  to  tell  it  him,  knows  it  only 
by  the  frequency  of  incendiary  fires  in  his  capital,  the  fre- 
quency of  bakers  hanged  at  their  shop-lintels  ;  a  most  inferior 
ex-postfacto  method  ! — Profitable  indisputably,  essential  in  all 
cases  where  practicable,  to  know  clearly  what  and  where  the 
obstacles  are.  Marching  with  noble  aim,  with  the  heavenly 
loadstars  ever  in  your  eye,  you  will  thus  choose  your  path 
with  the  prudence  which  is  also  noble,  and  reach  your  aim 
surely,  if  more  slowly. 

With  the  real  or  seeming  slowness  wTe  do  not  quarrel.  The 
winding  route,  on  uneven  surfaces,  may  often  be  the  swiftest ; 
that  is  a  point  for  your  own  prudences,  practical  sagacities, 
and  qualities  as  a  King ;  the  indispensable  point,  for  both  you 
15 


226 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


and  us,  is  that  you  do  always  advance,  unrestirg  if  unhasting, 
and  know  in  every  fibre  of  you  that  arrive  you  must.  Rig- 
idly straight  routes  find  some  admiration  with  the  vulgar,  and 
are  rather  apt  to  please  at  hustings  ;  but  we  know  well 
enough  they  are  no  clear  sign  of  strength  of  purpose.  The 
Leming-rat,  I  have  been  told,  travelling  in  myriads  seaward 
from  the  hills  of  Norway,  turns  not  to  the  right  or  the  left : 
if  these  rats  meet  a  haystack,  they  eat  their  way  through  it ; 
if  a  stone  house,  they  try  the  same  feat,  and  not  being  equal 
to  eating  the  house,  climb  the  walls  of  it,  pour  over  the  roof 
of  it,  and  push  forward  on  the  old  line,  swimming  or  ferrying 
rivers,  scaling  or  rounding-precipices  ;  most  consistent  Leni- 
ing-rats.  And  what  is  strange,  too,  their  errand  seaward  is 
properly  none.  They  all  perish,  before  reaching  the  sea,  or 
of  hunger  on  the  sand-beach  ;  their  consistent  rigidly  straight 
journey  was  a  journey  no-whither  !  I  do  not  ask  your  Lord- 
ship to  imitate  the  Leming-rat. 

But  as  to  universal  suffrage,  again, — can  it  be  proved  that, 
since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  there  was  ever  given  a  uni- 
versal vote  in  favour  of  the  worthiest  man  or  thing  ?  I  have 
always  understood  that  true  worth,  in  any  department,  was 
difficult  to  recognise  ;  that  the  worthiest,  if  he  appealed  to 
universal  suffrage,  would  have  but  a  poor  chance.  John  Mil- 
ton, inquiring  of  universal  England  what  the  worth  of  Para- 
dise Lost  was,  received  for  answer,  Five  Pounds  Sterling. 
George  Hudson,  inquiring  in  like  manner  what  his  services 
on  the  railways  might  be  worth,  received  for  answer  (prompt 
temporary  answer),  Fifteen  Hundred  Thousand  ditto.  Alas, 
Jesus  Christ  asking  the  Jews  what  he  deserved,  was  not  the 
answer,  Death  on  the  gallows  ! — Will  your  Lordship  believe 
me,  I  feel  it  almost  a  shame  to  insist  on  such  truisms.  Surely 
11  io  doctrine  of  judgment  by  vote  of  hustings  has  sunk  now, 
or  should  be  fast  sinking,  to  the  condition  of  obsolete  with  all 
but  the  commonest  of  human  intelligences.  With  me,  I 
must  own,  it  has  never  had  any  existence.  The  mass  of  men 
consulted  at  hustings,  upon  any  high  matter  whatsoever,  is  as 
ugly  an  exhibition  of  human  stupidity  as  this  world  sees, 


PARLIAMENTS. 


227 


Universal  suffrage  assembled  at  hustings, — I  will  consult  it 
about  the  quality  of  New-Orleans  pork,  or  the  coarser  kinds 
of  Irish  butter ;  but  as  to  the  character  of  men,  I  will  if  pos- 
sible ask  it  no  question  :  or  if  the  question  be  asked  and  the 
answer  given,  I  will  generally  consider,  in  cases  of  any  impor- 
tance, that  the  said  answer  is  likely  to  be  wrong, — that  I  have 
to  listen  to  the  said  answer  and  receive  it  as  authentic,  and 
for  my  own  share  to  go,  and  with  whatever  strength  may  lie 
in  me,  do  the  reverse  of  the  same.  Even  so,  your  Lordship  ; 
for  how  should  I  follow  a  multitude  to  do  evil  ?  There  are 
such  things  as  multitudes  all  full  of  beer  and  nonsense,  even 
of  insincere  factitious  nonsense,  who  by  hypothesis  cannot  but 
be  wrong.  Or  what  safety  will  there  be  in  a  thousand  or  ten 
thousand  brawling  potwallopers,  or  blockheads  of  any  rank 
whatever,  if  the  Fact,  namely  the  whole  Universe  and  the 
Eternal  Destinies,  be  against  me  ?  These  latter  I  for  my 
share  will  try  to  follow,  even  if  alone  in  doing  so.  It  will  be 
better  for  me. 

Your  Lordship,  there  are  fools,  cowards,  knaves,  and  glut- 
tonous traitors  true  only  to  their  own  appetite,  in  immense 
majority,  in  every  rank  of  life  ;  and  there  is  nothing  fright- 
fuler  than  to  see  these  voting  and  deciding  !  "Not your  way, 
my  unhappy  brothers,  shall  it  be  decided  ;  no,  not  while  I, 
and  '  a  company  of  poor  men  '  you  may  have  heard  of,  live  in 
this  world.  Yote  it  as  you  please,"  my  friend  Oliver  was 
wont  to  say  or  intimate  ;  '■*  vote  it  so,  if  you  like  ;  there  is  a 
company  of  poor  men  that  will  spend  all  their  blood  before 
they  see  it  settled  so  !  " — Who,  in  such  sad  moments,  but  has 
to  hate  the  profane  vulgar,  and  feel  that  he  must  and  will  de- 
bar it  from  him  !  And  alas,  the  vulgarest  vulgar,  I  often  find, 
are  not  those  in  ragged  coats  at  this  day ;  but  those  in  fine, 
superfine,  and  superfinest ; — the  more  is  the  pity  !  Superfine 
coat  symbolically  indicates,  like  official  stamp  and  signature, 
Bank-of- England  Thousand-Pound  Note  ;  and  blinkard  owls, 
in  city  and  country,  accept  it  cheerfully  as  such  :  but  look 
closer,  you  may  find  it  mere  Bank  of  Elegance  ;  a  flash-note 
travelling  towards  the  eternal  Eire  ; — and  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  it,  you,  I  hope  ! 


228 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


Clearly  enough,  the  King  in  constitutional  countries  would 
wish  to  ascertain  all  men's  votes,  their  opinions,  volitions  on 
all  manner  of  matters ;  that  so  his  whole  scene  of  operations, 
to  the  last  cranny  of  it,  might  be  illuminated  for  him,  and  he, 
wherever  he  were  working,  might  work  with  perfect  knowledge 
of  the  circumstances  and  materials.  But  the  King,  New 
Downing  Street,  or  whatever  the  Sovereign's  name  is,  will  be 
a  very  poor  King  indeed  if  he  admit  all  these  votes  into  his 
system  of  procedure,  and  transform  them  into  acts  ; — indeed 
I  think,  in  that  case,  he  will  not  be  long  for  this  world  as  a 
King  !  No  :  though  immense  acclamation  attend  him  at  the 
first  outset  in  that  course,  every  volition  and  opinion  finding 
itself  admitted  into  the  poor  King's  procedure, — yet  unless 
the  volitions  and  opinions  are  wise  and  not  foolish,  not  the 
smallest  ultimate  prosperity  can  attend  him  ;  and  all  the  ac- 
clamations of  the  world  will  not  save  him  from  the  ignomini- 
ous lot  which  Nature  herself  has  appointed  for  all  creatures 
that  do  not  follow  the  Law  which  Nature  has  laid  down. 

You  ask  this  and  the  other  man  what  is  his  opinion,  his  no- 
tion, about  varieties  of  things  :  and  having  ascertained  what 
his  notion  is,  and  carried  it  off  as  a  piece  of  information, — 
surely  you  are  bound,  many  times,  most  times  if  you  are  a 
wise  man,  to  go  directly  in  the  teeth  of  it,  and  for  his  sake 
and  for  yours  to  do  directly  the  contrary  of  it.  Any  man's 
opinion  one  would  accept ;  all  men's  opinion,  could  it  be  had 
absolutely  without  trouble,  might  be  worth  accepting.  Nay 
on  certain  points  I  even  ask  my  horse's  opinion  : — as  to  wheth- 
er beans  will  suit  him  at  this  juncture,  or  a  truss  of  tares  ; 
on  this  and  the  like  points  I  carefully  consult  my  horse  ; 
gather,  by  such  language  as  he  has,  what  my  horse's  candid 
opinion  as  to  beans  or  the  truss  of  tares  is,  and  unhesitatingly 
follow  the  same.  As  what  prudent  rider  would  not  ?  There 
is  no  foolishest  man  but  knows  one  and  the  other  thing  more 
clearly  than  any  the  wisest  man  does  ;  no  glimmer  of  human 
or  equine  intelligence  but  can  disclose  something  which  even 
the  intelligence  of  a  Newton,  not  present  in  that  exact  junc- 
ture of  circumstances,  would  not  otherwise  have  ascertained. 
To  such  length  you  would  gladly  consult  all  equine,  and  much. 


PARLIAMENTS. 


229 


more  all  human  intelligences  : — to  such  length  ;  and,  strictly 
speaking,  not  any  farther. 

Of  what  use  towards  the  general  result  of  finding  out  what 
it  is  wise  to  do, — which  is  the  one  thing  needful  to  all  men 
and  nations, — can  the  fool's  vote  be  ?  It  is  either  coincident 
with  the  wise  man's  vote,  throwing  no  new  light  on  the  matter, 
and  therefore  superfluous  ;  or  else  it  is  contradictory,  and 
therefore  still  more  superfluous,  throwing  mere  darkness  on 
the  matter,  and  imperatively  demanding  to  be  annihilated, 
and  returned  to  the  giver  with  protest.  Woe  to  you  if  you 
leave  that  valid !  There  are  expressions  of  volition  too,  as 
well  as  of  opinion,  which  you  collect  from  foolish  men,  and 
even  from  inferior  creatures  :  these  can  do  }tou  no  harm,  these 
it  may  be  very  beneficial  for  you  to  have  and  know ; — but 
these  also,  surely  it  is  often  imperative  on  you  to  contradict, 
and  wrould  be  ruinous  and  baleful  for  you  to  follow.  You 
have  to  apprise  the  unwise  man,  even  as  you  do  the  unwiser 
horse :  "On  the  truss  of  tares  I  took  your  vote,  and  have 
cheerfully  fulfilled  it ;  but  in  regard  to  choice  of  roads  and 
the  like,  I  regret  to  say  you  have  no  competency  whatever. 
No,  my  unwise  friend,  we  are  for  Hammersmith  and  the  West, 
not  for  Highgate  and  the  Northern  parts,  on  this  occasion  : 
not  by  that  left  turn,  by  this  turn  to  the  right  runs  our  road  ; 
thither,  for  reasons  too  intricate  to  explain  at  this  moment,  it 
will  behove  thee  and  me  to  go  :  Along,  therefore  ! " — 

" But  how?"  your  Lordship  asks,  and  all  the  world  with 
you:  "Are  not  two  men  stronger  than  one;  must  not  two 
votes  carry  it  over  one  ?  "  I  answer  :  No,  nor  two  thousand 
nor  two  million.  Many  men  vote  ;  but  in  the  end  you  will  in- 
fallibly find,  none  counts  except  the  few  who  were  in  the  right. 
Unit  of  that  class,  against  as  many  zeros  as  you  like  !  If  the 
King's  thought  is  according  to  the  will  of  God,  or  to  the  law 
appointed  for  this  Universe,  I  can  assure  your  Lordship  the 
King  will  ultimately  carry  that,  were  he  but  one  in  it  against 
the  whole  world. 

It  is  not  by  rude  force,  either  of  muscle  or  of  will,  that  one 
man  can  govern  twenty  men,  much  more  twenty  millions  of 
men.    For  the  moment,  if  all  the  twenty  are  stark  against  his 


230 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


resolution  never  so  wise,  the  twenty  for  the  moment  must 
have  their  foolish  way  ;  the  wise  resolution,  for  the  moment, 
cannot  be  carried.  Let  their  votes  be  taken,  or  known  (as  is 
often  possible)  without  taking  ;  and  once  well  taken,  let  them 
be  weighed, — which  latter  operation,  also  an  essential  one  for 
the  King  or  Governor,  is  very  difficult.  If  the  weight  be  in 
favour  of  the  Governor,  let  him  in  general  proceed  ;  cheer- 
fully accepting  adverse  account  of  heads,  and  dealing  wisely 
with  that  according  to  his  means  ; — often  enough,  in  pressing- 
cases,  flatly  disregarding  that,  and  walking  through  the  heart 
of  it  ;  for  in  general  it  is  but  frothy  folly  and  loud-blustering 
rant  and  wind. 

I  have  known  minorities,  and  even  small  ones  by  the  ac- 
count of  heads,  do  grand  national  feats  long  memorable  to  all 
the  world,  in  these  circumstances.  Witness  Cromwell  and  his 
Puritans  ;  a  minority  at  all  times,  by  account  of  heads  ;  yet 
the  authors  or  saviours,  as  it  ultimately  proved,  of  whatsoever 
is  divinest  in  the  things  we  can  still  reckon  ours  in  England. 
Minority  by  tale  of  heads  ;  but  weighed  in  Heaven's  balances, 
a  most  clear  majority  :  this  '  company  of  poor  men  that  will 
spend  their  blood  rather,'  on  occasion  shown, — it  has  now  be- 
come a  noble  army  of  heroes,  whose  conquests  were  appointed 
to  endure  forever.  Indeed  it  is  on  such  terms  that  grand  na- 
tional and  other  feats,  by  the  sons  of  Adam,  are  generally 
done.  Not  without  risk  and  labour  to  the  doers  of  them  ;  no 
surely,  for  it  never  was  an  easy  matter  to  do  the  real  will  of  a 
Nation,  much  more  the  real  will  of  this  Universe  in  respect  to 
a  Nation.  No,  that  is  difficult  and  heroic  ;  easy  as  it  is  to 
count  the  voting  heads  of  a  Nation  at  any  time,  and  do  the 
behests  of  their  beer  and  balderdash  ;  empty  behests,  very 
different  from  even  their  '  will,'  poor  blockheads,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  Nation's  will  and  the  Universe's  will !  Which  two, 
especially  which  latter,  are  alone  worth  doing. 

But  if  not  only  the  number  but  the  weight  of  votes  prepon- 
derate against  your  Governor,  he,  never  so  much  in  the  right, 
will  find  it  wise  to  hold  his  hand  ;  to  delay,  for  a  time,  this 
his  beneficent  execution,  which  is  ultimately  inevitable  and 
indispensable,  of  Heaven's  Decrees  ;  the  Nation  being  still 


PARLIAMENTS. 


281 


unprepared.  He  will  leave  the  bedarkened  Nation  yet  a  while 
alone.  What  can  he  do  for  it,  if  not  even  a  small  minority 
will  stand  by  him  ?  Let  him  strive  to  enlighten  the  Nation  ; 
let  him  pray,  and  in  all  ways  endeavour,  that  the  Nation  be 
enlightened, — that  a  small  minority  may  open  their  eyes  and 
hearts  to  the  message  of  Heaven,  which  he,  heavy-laden  man 
and  governor,  has  been  commissioned  to  see  done  in  this 
transitory  earth,  at  his  peril !  Heaven's  message,  sure  enough, 
if  it  be  true  ;  and  Hell's  if  it  be  not,  though  voted  for  by  in- 
numerable two-legged  animals  without  feathers  or  with  ! 

On  the  whole,  honour  to  small  minorities,  when  they  are 
genuine  ones.  Severe  is  their  battle  sometimes,  but  it  is  vic- 
torious always  like  that  of  gods.  Tancred  of  Hauteville's 
sons,  some  eight  centuries  ago,  conquered  all  Italy  ;  bound  it 
up  into  organic  masses,  of  vital  order  after  a  sort  ;  founded 
thrones  and  principalities  upon  the  same,  which  have  not  yet 
entirely  vanished, — which,  the  last  dying  wrecks  of  which, 
still  wait  for  some  worthier  successor,  it  would  appear.  The 
Tancred  Normans  were  some  Four  Thousand  strong  ;  the 
Italy  they  conquered  in  open  fight,  and  bound  up  into  masses 
at  their  ordering  will,  might  count  Eight  Millions,  all  as  large 
of  bone,  as  eupeptic  and  black-whiskered  as  they.  How  came 
the  small  minority  of  Normans  to  prevail  in  this  so  hopeless- 
looking  debate  ?  Intrinsically,  doubt  it  not,  because  they 
were  in  the  right ;  because,  in  a  dim,  instinctive,  but  most 
genuine  manner,  they  were  doing  the  commandment  of 
Heaven,  and  so  Heaven  had  decided  that  they  were  to  pre- 
vail. But  extrinsically  also,  I  can  see,  it  was  because  the 
Normans  were  not  afraid  to  have  their  skin  scratched  ;  and 
were  prepared  to  die  in  their  quarrel  where  needful.  One 
man  of  that  humour  among  a  thousand  of  the  other,  consider 
it !  Let  the  small  minority,  backed  by  the  whole  Universe, 
and  looked  on  by  such  a  cloud  of  invisible  witnesses,  fall  into 
no  despair. 


What  is  to  become  of  Parliament  in  the  New  Era,  is  less  a 
question  with  me  than  what  is  to  become  of  Downing  Street. 


232 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


With  a  reformed  Downing  Street  strenuously  bent  on  real 
and  not  imaginary  management  of  our  affairs,  I  could  foresee 
all  manner  of  reform  to  England  and  its  Parliament ;  and  at 
length  in  the  gradual  course  of  years,  that  highest  acme  of 
reform  to  Parliament  and  to  England,  a  New  Governing  Au- 
thority, a  real  and  not  imaginary  King  set  to  preside  there. 
With  that,  to  my  view,  comes  all  blessedness  whatsoever  ; 
without  that  comes,  and  can  come,  nothing  but,  with  ever- 
accelerated  pace,  Anarchy  ;  or  the  declaration  of  the  fact  that 
we  have  no  Governor,  and  have  long  had  none. 

For  the  rest,  Anarchy  advances  as  with  seven-leagued  boots, 
in  these  years.  Either  some  New  Downing  Street  and  Incipi- 
ency  of  a  real  Hero-Kingship  again,  or  else  Chartist  Parlia- 
ment, with  AjDotheosis  of  Attorneyism,  and  Anarchy  very  un- 
deniable to  all  the  world  :  one  or  else  the  other,  it  seems  to 
me,  we  shall  soon  have.  Under  a  real  Kingship  the  Parlia- 
ment, we  may  rest  satisfied,  would  gradually,  with  whatever 
difficulty,  get  itself  inducted  to  its  real  function,  and  restricted 
to  that,  and  moulded  to  the  form  fittest  for  that.  If  there  can 
be  no  reform  of  Downing  Street,  I  care  not  much  for  the  re- 
form of  Parliament.  Our  doom,  I  perceive,  is  the  Apotheosis 
of  Attorneyism ;  into  that  blackest  of  terrestrial  curses  we 
must  plunge,  and  take  our  fate  there  like  the  others. 

For  the  sake  both  of  the  New  Downing  Street  and  of  what- 
ever its  New  Parliament  may  be,  let  us  add  here,  what  will 
vitally  concern  both  these  Institutions,  a  few  facts,  much  for- 
gotten at  present,  on  the  general  question  of  Enfranchise- 
ment ; — and  therewith  end.  Who  is  slave,  and  eternally  ap- 
pointed to  be  governed  ;  who  free,  and  eternally  appointed  to 
govern  ?    It  would  much  avail  us  all  to  settle  this  question. 

Slave  or  free  is  settled  in  Heaven  for  a  man  ;  acts  of  parlia- 
ment attempting  to  settle  it  on  earth  for  him,  sometimes 
make  sad  work  of  it.  Now  and  then  they  correctly  copy 
Heaven's  settlement  in  regard  to  it ;  proclaim  audibly  what  is 
the  silent  fact,  "Here  is  a  free  man,  let  him  be  honoured  !  " 
— and  so  are  of  the  nature  of  a  God's  Gospel  to  other  men 
concerned.    Far  oftenest  they  quite  miscopy  Heaven's  settle- 


PARLIAMENTS. 


233 


ment,  and  copy  merely  the  account  of  the  Ledger,  or  some 
quite  other  settlement  in  regard  to  it ;  proclaiming  with  an 
air  of  discovery,  "  Here  is  a  Ten-pounder  ;  here  is  a  Thousand- 
pounder  ;  Heavens,  here  is  a  Three-million  pounder, — is  not 
he  free  ?  "  Nay  they  are  wont,  here  in  England  for  some  time 
back,  to  proclaim  in  the  gross,  as  if  it  had  become  credible 
lately,  all  two-legged  animals  without  feathers  to  be  'free.' 
"  Here  is  a  distressed  Nigger,"  they  proclaim,  "  who  much 
prefers  idleness  to  work, — should  not  he  be  free  to  choose 
which  ?  Is  not  he  a  man  and  brother  ?  Clearly  here  are  two 
legs  and  no  feathers  :  let  us  vote  him  Twenty  millions  for  en- 
franchisement, and  so  secure  the  blessing  of  the  gods !  " — 

My  friends,  I  grieve  to  remind  you,  but  it  is  eternally  the 
fact :  Whom  Heaven  has  made  a  slave,  no  parliament  of  men 
nor  power  that  exists  on  Earth  can  render  free.  No  ;  he  is 
chained  by  fetters  which  parliaments  with  their  millions  can- 
not reach.  You  can  label  him  free  ;  yes,  and  it  is  but  label- 
ling him  a  solecism, — bidding  him  be  the  parent  of  solecisms 
wheresoever  he  goes.  You  can  give  him  pumpkins,  houses  of 
tenpound  rent,  houses  of  ten-thousand  pound  :  the  bigger 
candle  you  light  within  the  slave-image  of  him,  it  will  but 
show  his  slave-features  on  the  larger  and  more  hideous  scale. 
Heroism,  manful  wisdom  is  not  his  :  many  things  you  can 
give  him,  but  that  thing  never.  Him  the  Supreme  Powers 
marked  in  the  making  of  him,  slave  ;  appointed  him,  at  his 
and  our  peril,  not  to  command  but  to  obey,  in  this  world. 
Him  you  cannot  enfranchise,  not  him  ;  to  proclaim  this  man 
free  is  not  a  God's  Gospel  to  other  men ;  it  is  an  alarming- 
Devil's  Gospel  to  himself  and  to  us  all.  Devil's  Gospel  little 
feared  in  these  days  ;  but  brewing  for  the  whole  of  us  its  big- 
oceans  of  destruction  all  the  same.  States  are  to  be  called 
happy  and  noble  in  so  far  as  they  settle  rightly  who  is  slave 
and  who  free  ;  unhappy,  ignoble,  and  doomed  to  destruction, 
as  they  settle  it  wrong. 

We  may  depend  on  it,  Heaven  in  the  most  constitutional 
countries  knows  well  who  is  slave,  who  is  not.  And  with  re- 
gard to  voting,  I  lay  it  down  as  a  rule,  No  real  slave's  vote  is 
other  than  a  nuisance,  whensoever  or  wheresoever  or  in  what 


234 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


manner  soever  it  be  given.  That  is  a  truth,  No  slave's  vote  ; 
— and,  alas,  here  is  another  not  quite  so  plain,  though  equally 
certain,  That  as  Nature  and  severe  Destiny,  not  mere  act  of 
Parliament  and  possession  of  money-capital,  determine  a  man's 
slavehood, — so,  by  these  latter,  it  has  been,  in  innumerable 
instances,  determined  wrong  just  at  present !  Instances  evi- 
dent to  everybody,  and  instances  suspected  by  nobody  but  the 
more  discerning : — the  fact  is,  slaves  are  in  a  tremendous  ma- 
jority everywhere  ;  and  the  voting  of  them  (not  to  be  got  rid 
of  just  yet)  is  a  nuisance  in  proportion.  Nuisance  of  propor- 
tionally tremendous  magnitude,  properly  indeed  the  grand 
fountain  of  all  other  nuisances  whatsoever. 

For  it  is  evident,  could  you  entirely  exclude  the  slave's  vote, 
and  admit  only  the  heroic  free  man's  vote, — folly,  knavery, 
falsity,  gluttonous  imbecility,  lowmindedness  and  cowardice 
had,  if  not  disappeared  from  the  earth,  reduced  themselves  to 
a  rigorous  minimum  in  human  affairs;  the  ultimate  New  Era, 
and  best  possible  condition  of  human  affairs,  had  actually 
come.  This  is  what  I  always  pray  for  ;  rejoicing  in  everything 
that  furthers  it,  sorrowing  for  everything  that  furthers  the 
reverse  of  it.  And  though  I  know  it  is  yet  a  great  way  off,  I 
know  also  either  that  it  is  inevitably  coming,  or  that  human 
society,  and  the  possibility  of  man's  living  on  this  earth,  has 
ended.  And  so  for  England  too,  nay  I  think  for  England  most 
and  soonest  of  all,  it  will  be  behooveful  that  we  attain  some 
rectification,  innumerable  rectifications,  in  regard  to  this  essen- 
tial matter  ;  and  contrive  to  bid  our  Heaven's  free  men  vote, 
and  our  Heaven's  slaves  be  silent,  with  infinitely  more  correct- 
ness than  at  present.  Either  on  the  hither  brink  of  that  black 
sea  of  Anarchy,  wherein  other  Nations  at  present  lie  drowning 
and  plunging,  or  after  weltering  through  the  same,  if  we  can 
welter, — it  will  have  to  be  attained.  In  some  measure,  in 
some  manner,  attained  :  life  depends  on  that,  death  on  the 
missing  of  that. 

New  definitions  of  slavery  are  pressingly  wanted  just  now. 
The  definition  of  a  free  man  is  difficult  to  find,  so  that  all  men 
could  distinguish  slave  from  free  ;  found,  it  would  be  invalu- 


PARLIAMENTS. 


235 


able  !  The  free  man  once  universally  recognised,  we  should 
know  him  who  had  the  privilege  to  vote  and  assist  in  com- 
manding, at  least  to  go  himself  uncommanded.  Men  do  not 
know  his  definition  well  at  present ;  never  knew  it  worse  ; — ■ 
hence  these  innumerable  sorrows. 

The  free  man  is  he  who  is  loyal  to  the  Laws  of  this  Uni- 
verse ;  who  in  his  heart  sees  and  knows,  across  all  contradic- 
tions, that  injustice  cannot  befall  him  here  ;  that  except  by 
sloth  and  cowardly  falsity  evil  is  not  possible  here.  The  first 
symptom  of  such  a  man  is  not  that  he  resists  and  rebels,  but 
that  he  obeys.  As  poor  Henry  Marten  wrote  in  Chepstow 
Castle  long  ago, 

"  Reader,  if  thou  an  oft-told  tale  wilt  trust, 
Thou'lt  gladly  do  and  suffer  what  thou  must." 

Gladly  ;  he  that  will  go  gladly  to  his  labour  and  his  suffering, 
it  is  to  him  alone  that  the  Upper  Powers  are  favourable  and 
the  Field  of  Time  will  yield  fruit.  'An  oft-told  tale,'  friend 
Harry  ;  all  the  noble  of  this  world  have  known  it,  and  in  vari- 
ous dialects  have  striven  to  let  us  know  it !  The  essence  of 
all  '  religion  '  that  was  and  that  will  be,  is  to  make  men  free. 
Who  is  he  that,  in  this  Life-pilgrimage,  will  consecrate  him- 
self at  all  hazards  to  obey  God  and  God's  servants,  and  to 
disobey  the  Devil  and  his  ?  With  pious  valour  this  free  man 
walks  through  the  roaring  tumults,  invincibly  the  way  whither 
he  is  bound.  To  him  in  the  waste  Saharas,  through  the  grim 
solitudes  peopled  by  galvanised  corpses  and  doleful  creatures, 
there  is  a  loadstar  ;  and  his  path,  whatever  those  of  others  be, 
is  towards  the  Eternal.  A  man  well  worth  consulting,  and 
taking  the  vote  of,  about  matters  temporal  ;  and  properly  the 
only  kind  of  man.  Though  always  an  exceptional,  this  was 
once  a  well-known  man.  He  has  become  one  of  the  rarest 
now  ; — but  is  not  yet  entirely  extinct ;  and  will  become  more 
plentiful,  if  the  Gods  intend  to  keep  this  Planet  habitable 
long. 

Him  it  were  vain  to  try  to  find  always  without  mistake  ; 
alas,  if  he  were  in  the  majority,  this  world  would  be  all  '  a 
school  of  virtue,'  which  it  is  far  from  being.    Nevertheless  to 


236 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


him,  and  in  all  times  to  him  alone,  beloDgs  the  rule  of  this 
world  :  that  he  be  got  to  rule,  that  he  be  forbidden  to  rule 
and  not  got,  means  salvation  or  destruction  to  the  world. 
Friend  Peter,  I  am  perfectly  deliberate  in  calling  this  the 
truest  doctrine  of  the  constitution  you  have  ever  heard.  And 
I  recommend  you  to  learn  it  gradually,  and  to  lay  it  wTell  to 
heart ;  for  without  it  there  is  no  salvation,  and  all  other  doc- 
trines of  the  constitution  are  leather  and  prunella.  Will  any 
mass  of  Chancery  parchments,  think  you,  of  respectablest  tra- 
ditions and  Delolme  philosophies,  save  a  man  or  People  that 
forgets  this,  from  the  eternal  fire  ?  There  does  burn  such  a 
fire  everywhere  under  this  green  earth-rind  of  ours,  and  Lon- 
don pavements  themselves  (as  Paris  pavements  have  done) 
can  start  up  into  sea-ridges,  with  a  horrible  '  trough  of  the 
sea,'  if  the  fire-flood  urge  ! 

To  this  man,  I  say,  belongs  eternally  the  government  of 
the  world.  Where  he  reigns,  all  is  blessed  ;  and  the  gods  re- 
joice, and  only  the  wicked  make  wail.  Where  the  contrary  of 
him  reigns,  all  is  accursed  ;  and  the  gods  lament, — and  will, 
by  terrible  methods,  rectify  the  matter  by  and  by  !  Have  you 
forbidden  this  man  to  rule  ?  Obey  he  cannot  where  the  Devil 
and  his  servants  rule  ;  how  can  he  ?  He  must  die  thrice 
ruined,  damned  by  the  gods,  if  he  do.  He  will  retire  rather, 
into  deserts  and  rocky  inaccessibilities,  companion  to  wild- 
beasts,  to  the  dumb  granites  and  the  eternal  stars,  far  from 
you  and  your  affairs.  You  and  your  affairs,  once  wTell  quit  of 
him,  go  by  a  swift  and  ever  swifter  road ! 

I  would  recommend  your  Lordship  to  attack  straightway, 
by  the  Industrial  Regiments  or  better  otherwise,  that  huge 
Irish  and  British  Pauper  Question,  which  is  evidently  the 
father  of  questions  for  us,  the  lowest  level  in  our  '  universal 
stygian  quagmire  ; '  and  to  try  whether  (without  ballot-box) 
there  are  no  '  kings '  discoverable  in  England  who  would  rally 
round  you,  in  practical  attempt  towards  draining  said  quag- 
mire from  that  point.  And  to  be  swift  about  it ;  for  the  time 
presses, — and  if  your  Lordship  is  not  ready,  I  think  the  bal- 
lot-boxes and  the  six  points  are  fast  getting  ready  ! 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


237 


No.  Vn.    HUDSON'S  STATUE. 

[1st  July  1850.] 

At  St.  Ives  in  Huntingdonshire,  where  Oliver  Cromwell 
farmed  and  resided  for  some  years,  the  people  have  determined 
to  attempt  some  kind  of  memorial  to  that  memorable  charac- 
ter. Other  persons  in  other  quarters  seem  to  be,  more  or  less 
languidly,  taking  up  the  question  ;  in  Country  Papers  I  have 
read  emphatic  leading-articles,  recommending  and  urging 
that  there  should  be  a  '  People's  Statue '  of  this  great  Oliver, 
— Statue  furnished  by  universal  contribution  from  the  Eng- 
lish People  ;  and  set  up,  if  possible,  in  London,  in  Hunting- 
don, or  failing  both  these  places,  in  St.  Ives,  or  Naseby  Field. 
Indeed  a  considerable  notion  seems  to  exist  in  the  English 
mind,  that  some  brass  or  stone  acknowledgment  is  due  to 
Cromwell,  and  ought  to  be  paid  him.  So  that  the  vexed  ques- 
tion, '  Shall  Cromwell  have  a  Statue  ? '  appears  to  be  resusci- 
tating itself ;  and  the  weary  Public  must  prepare  to  agitate  it 
again. 

Poor  English  Public,  they  really  are  exceedingly  bewildered 
with  Statues  at  present.  They  would  fain  do  honour  to  some- 
body, if  they  did  but  know  whom  or  how.  Unfortunately 
they  know  neither  whom  nor  how  ;  they  are,  at  present,  the 
farthest  in  the  world  from  knowing  !  They  have  raised  a  set 
of  the  ugliest  Statues,  and  to  the  most  extraordinary  persons, 
ever  seen  under  the  sun  before.  Being  myself  questioned,  in 
reference  to  the  New  Houses  of  Parliament  some  ye,ars  ago, 
"  Shall  Cromwell  have  a  Statue  ?  "  I  had  to  answer,  with  sor- 
rowful dubiety:  "Cromwell?  Side  by  side  with  a  sacred 
Charles  the  Second,  sacred  George  the  Fourth,  and  the  other 
sacred  Charleses,  Jameses,  Georges,  and  Defenders  of  the 
Faith, — I  am  afraid  he  wouldn't  like  it !  Let  us  decide  pro- 
visionally, No."  And  now  again  as  to  St.  Ives  and  the  Peo- 
ple's Statue,  is  it  not  to  be  asked  in  like  manner  :  "  Who  are 
the  1  People  '  ?  Are  they  a  People  worthy  to  build  Statues  to 
Cromwell :  or  worthy  only  of  doing  it  to  Hudson  ?  "  This 


238 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


latter  is  a  consideration  that  will  lead  us  into  far  deeper  and 
more  momentous  than  sculptural  inquiries  ;  and  I  will  request 
the  reader's  excellent  company  into  these  for  a  little. 

The  truth  is,  dear  Eeader,  nowhere,  to  an  impartial  ob- 
servant person,  does  the  deep-sunk  condition  of  the  English 
mind,  in  these  sad  epochs  ;  and  how,  in  all  spiritual  or  moral 
provinces,  it  has  long  quitted  company  with  fact,  and  ceased 
to  have  veracity  of  heart,  and  clearness  or  sincerity  of  pur- 
pose, in  regard  to  such  matters, — more  signally  manifest 
itself,  than  in  this  affair  of  Public  Statues.  Whom  doth  the 
king  delight  to  honour?  that  is  the  question  of  questions 
concerning  the  king's  own  honour.  Show  me  the  man  you 
honour  ;  I  know  by  that  symptom,  better  than  by  any  other, 
what  kind  of  man  you  yourself  are.  For  you  show  me  there 
what  your  ideal  of  manhood  is  ;  what  kind  of  man  you  long 
inexpressibly  to  be,  and  would  thank  the  gods,  with  your 
whole  soul,  for  being  if  you  could. 

In  this  point  of  view,  it  was  always  matter  of  regret  with 
me  that  Hudson's  Statue,  among  the  other  wonders  of  the 
present  age,  was  not  completed.  The  25,000Z.  subscribed,  or 
offered  as  oblation,  by  the  Hero-worshippers  of  England  to 
their  Ideal  of  a  Man,  awoke  many  questions  as  to  what  out- 
ward figure  it  could  most  profitably  take,  under  the  eternal 
canopy ;  questions  never  finally  settled  ;  nor  erer  now  to  be 
settled,  now  when  the  universal  Hudson  ragnarok,  or  'twi- 
light of  the  gods,'  has  arrived,  and  it  is  too  clear  no  statute  or 
cast-metal  image  of  that  Incarnation  of  the  English  Vishnu 
will  ever  be  molten  now  !  Why  was  it  not  set  up  ;  that  the 
whole  world  might  see  it ;  that  our  *  Religion '  might  be  seen, 
mounted  on  some  figure  of  a  Locomotive,  garnished  with 
.  Scrip-rolls  proper ;  and  raised  aloft  in  some  conspicuous 
place, — for  example,  on  the  other  arch  at  Hyde-Park  Corner? 
By  all  opportunities,  especially  to  all  subscribers  and  pious 
sacrificers  to  the  Hudson  Testimonial,  I  have  earnestly  urged  : 
Complete  your  Sin-Offering  ;  buy,  with  the  Five-and-twenty 
Thousand  Pounds,  what  utmost  amount  of  brazen  metal  and 
reasonable  sculptural  supervision  it  will  cover, — say  ten  tons 
of  brass,  with  a  tolerable  sculptor  :  model  that,  with  what  ex- 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


239 


actness  Art  can,  into  the  enduring  Brass  Portrait  and  Express 
Image  of  King  Hudson,  as  he  receives  the  grandees  of  this 
country  at  his  levees  or  soirees  and  couchees  ;  mount  him  on 
che  highest  place  you  can  discover  in  the  most  crowded  thor- 
oughfare, on  what  you  can  consider  the  pinnacle  of  the  Eng- 
lish world  :  I  assure  you  he  will  have  beneficial  effects  there. 
To  all  men  who  are  struggling  for  your  approbation,  and  fret- 
ling  their  poor  souls  to  fiddlestrings  because  you  will  not  suffi- 
ciently give  it,  I  will  say,  leading  them  to  the  foot  of  the  Hud- 
son mount  of  vision  :  "  See,  my  worthy  Mr.  Rigmarole  ;  con- 
sider this  surprising  Copper  Pyramid,  in  partly  human  form  : 
did  the  celestial  value  of  men's  approbation  ever  strike  you  so 
forcibly  before  ?  The  new  Apollo  Belvidere  this,  or  Ideal  of 
the  Scrip  Ages.  What  do  you  think  of  it?  Allah  Ilallah  ; 
there  is  still  one  God,  you  see,  in  England  ;  and  this  is  his 
Prophet.  Let  it  be  a  source  of  healing  to  you,  my  unhappy 
Mr.  Rigmarole  ;  draw  from  it  '  uses  of  terror,'  as  the  old  di- 
vines said  ;  uses  of  amazement,  of  new  wisdom,  of  unutter- 
able reflection  upon  the  present  epoch  of  the  world  !  " 

For,  in  fact,  there  was  more  of  real  worship  in  the  affair  of 
Hudson  than  is  usual  in  such.  The  practical  English  mind 
has  its  own  notions  as  to  the  Supreme  Excellence  ;  knows  the 
real  from  the  spurious  Avatar  of  Vishnu  ;  and  does  not  worship 
without  its  reasons.  The  practical  English  mind,  contem- 
plating its  divine  Hudson,  says  with  what  remainder  of  rever- 
ence is  in  it:  "Yes,  you  are  something  like  the  Ideal  of  a 
Man  ;  you  are  he  I  would  give  my  right  arm  and  leg,  and  ac- 
cept a  potbelly,  with  gout,  and  an  appetite  for  strong-waters, 
to  be  like !  You  out  of  nothing  can  make  a  world,  or  huge 
fortune  of  gold.  A  divine  intellect  is  in  you,  which  Earth  and 
Heaven,  and  Capel  Court  itself  acknowledge  ;  at  the  word  of 
which  are  done  miracles.  You  find  a  dying  railway  ;  you  say 
to  it,  Live,  blossom  anew  with  scrip  ; — and  it  lives,  and  blos- 
soms into  umbrageous  flowery  scrip,  to  enrich  wTith  golden 
apples,  surpassing  those  of  the  Hespericles,  the  hungry  souls 
of  men.  Diviner  miracle  what  god  ever  did  ?  Hudson,— 
though  I  mumble  about  my  thirty-nine  articles,  and  the  ser- 
vice of  other  divinities, — Hudson  is  my  god,  and  to  him  I  will 


240 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


sacrifice  this  twenty-pound  note  :  if  perhaps  he  will  be  pro- 
pitious to  me  ?  " 

Object  not  that  there  was  a  mixed  motive  in  this  worship 
of  Hudson  ;  that  perhaps  it  was  not  worship  at  all.  Undoubt- 
edly there  were  two  motives  mixed,  but  both  of  them  sincere, 
— as  often  happens  in  worship.  '  Transcendent  admiration  ' 
is  defined  as  the  origin  of  sacrifice ;  but  also  the  hope  of  profit 
joins  itself.  If  by  sacrificing  a  goat,  or  the  like  trifle,  to  Su- 
preme Jove,  you  can  get  Supreme  Jove's  favour,  will  not  that, 
for  one,  be  a  good  investment  ?  Jove  is  sacrificed  to,  and  wor- 
shipped, from  transcendent  admiration  :  but  also,  in  part, 
men  of  practical  nature  worship  him  as  pumps  are  primed, — 
give  him  a  little  water,  that  you  may  get  from  him  a  river. 
O  god-like  Hudson,  O  god-recognising  England,  why  was  not 
the  partly  anthropomorphous  Pyramid  of  Copper  cast,  then, 
and  set  upon  the  pinnacle  of  England,  that  all  men  might 
have  seen  it,  and  the  sooner  got  to  understand  these  things  ! 
The  twenty-five-thousand-pound  oblation  lay  upon  the  altar  at 
the  Bank  ;  this  monstrous  Copper  Vishnu  of  the  Scrip  Ages 
might  have  been  revealed  to  men,  and  was  not.  Unexpected 
obstacles  occurred.  In  fact,  there  rose  from  the  general  Eng- 
lish soul, — lying  dumb  and  infinitely  bewildered,  but  not  yet 
altogether  dead,  poor  wretch, — such  a  growl  of  inarticulate 
amazement,  at  this  unexpected  Hudson  Apotheosis,  as  alarmed 
the  pious  worshippers  ;  and  their  Copper  Pyramid  remains 
unrealised  ;  not  to  be  realised  to  all  eternity  now,  or  at  least 
not  till  Chaos  come  again,  and  the  ancient  mud-gods  have  do- 
minion !  The  Ne-plus-ult7'a  of  Statue-building  was  within 
sight ;  but  it  was  not  attained,  it  was  to  be  forever  unattain- 
able. 

If  the  world  were  not  properly  anarchic,  this  question  1  Who 
shall  have  a  Statue  ?  '  would  be  one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
solemn  for  it.  Who  is  to  have  a  Statue  ?  means,  Whom  shall 
we  consecrate  and  set  apart  as  one  of  our  sacred  men  ?  Sacred  ; 
that  all  men  may  see  him,  be  reminded  of  him,  and,  by  new 
example  added  to  old  perpetual  precept,  be  taught  what  is 
real  worth  in  man.   Whom  do  you  wish  us  to  resemble  ?  Him 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


241 


you  set  on  a  high  column,  that  all  men,  looking  on  it,  may 
be  continually  apprised  of  the  duty  you  expect  from  them. 
What  man  to  set  there,  and  what  man  to  refuse  forevermore 
the  leave  to  be  set  there  :  this,  if  a  country  were  not  anarchic 
as  we  say, — ruleless,  given  up  to  the  rule  of  Chaos,  in  the 
primordial  fibres  of  its  being, — would  be  a  great  question  for 
a  country ! 

And  to  the  parties  themselves,  lightly  as  they  set  about  it, 
the  question  is  rather  great.  Whom  shall  I  honour,  whom 
shall  I  refuse  to  honour  ?  If  a  man  have  any  precious  thing 
in  him  at  all,  certainly  the  most  precious  of  all  the  gifts  he 
can  offer  is  his  approbation,  his  reverence  to  another  man. 
This  is  his  very  soul,  this  fealty  which  he  swears  to  another  : 
his  personality  itself,  with  whatever  it  has  of  eternal  and  di- 
vine, he  bends  here  in  reverence  before  another.  Not  lightly 
will  a  man  give  this,-*— if  he  is  still  a  man.  If  he  is  no  longer 
a  man,  but  a  greedy  blind  two-footed  animal,  '  without  soul, 
except  what  saves  him  the  expense  of  salt  and  keeps  his  body 
with  its  appetites  from  putrefying  ; '  alas,  if  he  is  nothing 
now  but  a  human  money-bag  and  meat-trough,  it  is  different ! 
In  that  case  his  4  reverence  '  is  worth  so  many  pounds  ster- 
ling ;  and  these,  like  a  gentleman,  he  will  give  willingly. 
Hence  the  British  Statues,  such  a  populace  of  them  as  we  see. 
British  Statues,  and  some  other  more  important  things ! 
Alas,  of  how  many  unveracities,  of  what  a  world  of  irrever- 
ence, of  sordid  debasement,  and  death  in  '  trespasses  and  sins,' 
is  this  light  un veracious  bestowal  of  one's  approbation  the 
fatal  outcome  !  Fatal  in  its  origin  ;  in  its  developments  and 
thousandfold  results  so  fatal.  It  is  the  poison  of  the  univer- 
sal Upas-tree,  under  which  all  human  interests,  in  these  bad 
ages,  lie  writhing  as  if  in  the  last  struggle  of  death.  Street- 
barricades  rise  for  that  reason,  and  counterfeit  kings  have  to 
shave-off  their  whiskers,  and  fly  like  coiners  ;  and  it  is  a  world 
gone  mad  in  misery,  by  bestowing  its  approbation  wrong  ! 

Give  every  man  the  meed  of  honour  he  has  merited,  you 
have  the  ideal  world  of  poets  ;  a  hierarchy  of  beneficences, 
your  noblest  man  at  the  summit  of  affairs,  and  in  every  place 
the  due  gradation  of  the  fittest  for  that  place  :  a  maximum  of 
16 


242 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


wisdom  works  and  administers,  followed,  as  is  inevitable,  by 
a  maximum  of  success.  It  is  a  world  such  as  the  idle  poets 
dream  of, — such  as  the  active  poets,  the  heroic  and  the  true 
of  men,  are  incessantly  toiling  to  achieve,  and  more  and  more 
realise.  Achieved,  realised,  it  never  can  be  ;  striven  after  and 
approximated  to,  it  must  forever  be, — woe  to  us  if  at  any  time 
it  be  not !  Other  aim  in  this'  Earth  we  have  none.  Renounce 
such  aim  as  vain  and  hopeless,  reject  it  altogether,  what  more 
have  you  to  reject  ?  You  have  renounced  fealty  to  Nature 
and  its  Almighty  Maker  ;  you  have  said  practically,  "  We  can 
flourish  very  well  without  minding  Nature  and  her  ordinances  ; 
perhaps  Nature  and  the  Almighty — what  are  they  ?  A  Phan- 
tasm of  the  brain  of  Priests,  and  of  some  chimerical  persons 
that  write  Books?" — "Hold!"  shriek  others  wildly:  "You 
incendiary  infidels  ; — you  should  be  quiet  infidels,  and  be- 
lieve !  Haven't  we  a  Church  ?  Don't  we  keep  a  Church,  this 
long  while  ;  best-behaved  of  Churches,  which  meddles  with 
nobody,  assiduously  grinding  its  organs,  reading  its  liturgies, 
homiletics,  and  excellent  old  moral  horn-books,  so  patiently  as 
Church  never  did  ?  Can't  we  doff  our  hat  to  it :  even  look  in 
upon  it  occasionally,  on  a  wet  Sunday  ;  and  so,  at  the  trifling 
charge  of  a  few  millions  annually,  serve  both  God  and  the 
Devil  ?    Fools,  you  should  be  quiet  infidels,  and  believe  !  " 

To  give  our  approval  aright, — alas,  to  do  every  one  of  us 
what  lies  in  him,  that  the  honorable  man  everywhere,  and  he 
only  have  honour,  that  the  able  man  everywhere  be  put  into 
the  place  which  is  fit  for  him,  which  is  his  by  eternal  right : 
is  not  this  the  sum  of  all  social  morality  for  every  citizen  of 
this  world  ?  This  one  duty  perfectly  done,  what  more  could 
the  world  have  done  for  it?  The  world  in  all  departments 
and  aspects  of  it  were  a  perfect  world  ;  everywhere  adminis- 
tered by  the  best  wisdom  discernible  in  it,  everywhere  enjoy- 
ing the  exact  maximum  of  success  and  felicity  possible  for  it. 
Imperfectly,  and  not  perfectly  done,  we  know  this  duty  must 
always  be.  Not  done  at  all  ;  no  longer  remembered  as  a  thing 
which  God  and  Nature  and  the  Eternal  Voices  do  require  to 
be  done, — alas,  we  see  too  well  what  kind  of  a  world  that  ulti- 
mately makes  for  us]    A  world  no  longer  habitable. for  quiet 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


243 


persons  ;  a  world  which  in  these  sad  days  is  bursting  into 
street-barricades,  and  pretty  rapidly  turning-out  its  'Hon- 
oured Men,'  as  intrusive  dogs  are  turned  out,  with  a  kettle 
tied  to  their  tail.  To  Kings,  Kaisers,  Spiritual  Papas  and 
Holy  Fathers,  there  is  universal  "  Ajjage  !  Depart  thou  ;  go 
thou  to  the — Father  of  thee  !  "  in  a  huge  world-voice  of  mob- 
musketry  and  sooty  execration,  uglier  than  any  ever  heard 
before. 

Who's  to  have  a  Statue  ?  The  English,  at  present,  answer 
this  question  in  a  very  off-hand  manner.  So  far  as  I  can  as- 
certain the  method  they  have,  it  is  somewhat  as  follows. 

Of  course,  among  the  many  idle  persons  to  whom  an  unfort- 
unate world  has  given  money  and  no  work  to  do,  there  must 
be,  with  or  without  wisdom  (without,  for  most  part),  a  most 
brisk  demand  for  work.  Work  to  do  is  very  desirable,  for 
those  that  have  only  money  and  not  work.  "  Alas,  one  can= 
not  buy  sleep  in  the  market ! "  said  the  rich  Farmer-general. 
Alas,  one  cannot  buy  work  there  ;  work,  which  is  still  more 
indispensable.  One  of  these  unfortunates  with  money  and  no 
work,  whose  haunts  lie  in  the  dilettante  line,  among  Artists' 
Studios,  Picture-Sales,  and  the  like  regions, — an  inane  king- 
dom much  frequented  by  the  inane  in  these  times, — him  it 
strikes,  in  some  inspired  moment,  that  if  a  public  subscription 
for  a  Statue  to  somebody  could  be  started,  good  results  would 
follow.  Perhaps  some  Artist,  to  whom  he  is  Maecenas,  might 
be  got  to  do  the  Statue  ;  at  all  events  there  would  be  exten- 
sive work  and  stir  going  on, — whereby  the  inspired  dilettante, 
for  his  own  share,  might  get  upon  committees,  see  himself 
named  in  newspapers  ;  might  assist  in  innumerable  consulta- 
tions, open  utterances  of  speech  and  balderdash  ;  and,  on  the 
whole,  be  comfortably  present,  for  years  to  come,  at  something 
of  the  nature  of  'a  house  on  fire  :'  house  innocuously,  nay 
beneficently  on  fire  :  a  very  Goshen  to  an  idle  man  with  money 
in  his  pocket. 

This  is  the  germ  of  the  idea ;  now  make  your  idea  an  action. 
Think  of  a  proper  Somebody.  Almost  anybody  much  heard 
of  in  the  newspapers,  and  never  yet  convicted  of  felony ;  a 


2U 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


conspicuous  commander-in-chief,  duke  no  matter  whether  of 
Wellington  or  of  York  ;  successful  stump-orator,  political  in- 
triguer ;  lawyer  that  has  made  two  hundred  thousand  pounds  ; 
scrip-dealer  that  has  made  two  thousand  thousand  : — anybody 
of  a  large  class,  we  are  not  particular,  he  will  be  your  proper 
Somebody.  You  are  then  to  get  a  brother  idler  or  two  to 
unite  his  twenty-pound  note  to  yours  :  the  fire  is  kindled, 
smoke  rises  through  the  editorial  columns ;  the  fire,  if  you 
blow  it,  will  break  into  flame,  and  become  a  comfortable  house 
on  fire  for  you ;  solacing  the  general  idle  soul,  for  years  to 
come  ;  and  issuing  in  a  big  hulk  of  Corinthian  brass,  and  a 
notable  instance  of  hero-worship,  by  and  by. 

Such  I  take  to  be  the  origin  of  that  extraordinary  popula- 
tion of  Brazen  and  other  Images  which  at  present  dominate 
the  market-places  of  towns,  and  solicit  worship  from  the  Eng- 
lish people.  The  ugliest  images,  and  to  the  strangest  class  of 
persons,  ever  set-up  in  this  world.  Do  you  call  these  demi- 
gods ?  England  must  be  dreadfully  off  for  demigods !  My 
friend,  I  will  not  do  the  smallest  stroke  of  worship  to  them. 
One  in  the  thousand  I  will  snatch  out  of  bad  company,  if  I 
ever  can  ;  the  other  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  I  will  with 
pious  joy,  in  the  like  case,  reduce  to  the  state  of  broken  metal 
again,  and  veil  forever  from  all  men.  As  warming-pans,  as 
cheap  brass-candlesticks,  men  will  get  good  of  this  metal ;  as 
devotionary  Images  in  such  form,  evil  only.  These  are  not 
heroes,  gods,  or  demigods  ;  and  it  is  a  horrible  idolatry,  if 
you  knew  it,  to  set  them  up  as  such  ! 

Are  these  your  Pattern  Men  ?  Great  Men  ?  They  are  your 
lucky  (or  unlucky)  Gamblers  swollen  big.  Paltry  Adventurers 
for  most  part ;  worthy  of  no  worship  ;  and  incapable  forever 
of  getting  any,  except  from  the  soul  consecrated  to  flunkyism. 
Will  a  man's  soul  worship  that,  think  you  ?  Never  ;  if  you 
fashioned  him  of  solid  gold,  big  as  Benlomond,  no  heart  of  a 
man  would  ever  look  upon  him  except  with  sorrow  and  de- 
spair. To  the  flunky  heart  alone  is  he,  was  he  or  can  he  at 
any  time  be,  a  thing  to  look  upon  with  upturned  eves  of 
'  transcendent  admiration,'  worship  or  worthship  so-called. 
He,  you  unfortunate  fools,  he  is  not  the  one  we  want  to  be 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


245 


kept  in  mind  of  ;  not  he  at  all  by  any  means  !  To  him  and 
his  memory, — if  you  had  not  been  unfortunate  and  block- 
heads,— you  would  have  sunk  a  coalshaft  rather  than  raised  a 
column.  Deep  coalshaft,  there  to  bury  him  and  his  memory, 
that  men  might  never  speak  or  hear  of  him  more  ;  not  a  high 
column  to  admonish  all  men  that  they  should  try  to  resemble 
him  ! 

Of  the  sculptural  talent  manifest  in  these  Brazen  Images  I 
say  nothing,  though  much  were  to  be  said.  For  indeed,  if 
there  is  no  talent  displayed  in  them  but  a  perverse  one,  are 
not  we  to  consider  it  a  happiness,  in  that  strange  case  ?  This 
big  swollen  Gambler,  and  gluttonous  hapless  '  spiritual  Daniel 
Lambert,'  deserved  a  coalshaft  from  his  brother  mortals  :  let 
at  least  his  column  be  .ugly  ! — Nevertheless  ugly  columns  and 
images  are,  in  themselves,  a  real  evil.  They  too  preach  ugli- 
ness after  their  sort ;  and  have  a  certain  effect,  the  whole  of 
which  is  bad.  They  sanction  and  consecrate  artistic  botching, 
pretentious  futility,  and  the  horrible  doctrine  that  this  "Uni- 
verse is  a  Cockney  Nightmare, — which  no  creature  ought  for 
a  moment  to  believe,  or  listen  to  !  In  brief,  they  encourage 
an  already-ugly  Population  to  become  in  a  thousand  ways 
uglier.  They  too,  for  their  ugliness, — did  not  the  infinitely 
deeper  ugliness  of  the  thing  they  commemorate  absorb  all 
consideration  of  that, — would  deserve,  and  do  in  fact  inces- 
santly solicit,  abolition  from  the  sight  of  men. 

"What  good  in  the  aesthetic,  the  moral,  social  or  any  human 
point  of  view,  we  are  ever  to  get  of  these  Brazen  Images  now 
peopling  our  chief  cities  and  their  market-places,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  specify.  Evil  enough  we,  consciously  or  unconsciously, 
get  of  them  ;  no  soul  looks  upon  them  approvingly  or  even  in- 
differently without  damage,  all  the  deadlier  the  less  he  knows 
of  it.  Simple  souls  they  corrupt  in  the  sources  of  their  spir- 
itual being  :  wise  souls,  obliged  to  lock  on  them,  look  with 
some  feeling  of  anger  and  just  abhorrence  ;  which  is  itself  a 
mischief  to  a  peaceable  man.  Good  will  never  be  got  of  these 
Brazen  Images  in  their  present  form.  Of  what  use,  till  once 
broken-up  and  melted  into  warming-pans,  they  can  ever  be  to 


246 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


gods  or  men,  I  own  I  cannot  see.  Gods  and  men  demand 
that  this,  which  is  their  sure  ultimate  destiny,  should  so  soon 
as  possible  be  realised. 


It  is  tragically  evident  to  me,  our  first  want,  which  includes 
all  wants,  is  that  of  a  new  real  Aristocracy  of  fact,  instead  of 
the  extinct  imaginary  one  of  title,  which  the  anarchic  world  is 
everywhere  rebelling  against :  but  if  it  is  from  Popular  Suf- 
frage that  we  are  to  look  for  such  a  blessing,  is  not  this  ex- 
traordinary populace  of  British  Statues,  which  now  dominates 
our  market-places,  one  of  the  saddest  omens  that  ever  was  ? 
Suffrage  announces  to  us,  nothing  doubting  :  "Here  are  your 
real  demigods  and  heroic  men,  ye  famous  British  People  ; 
here  are  Brazen  and  other  Images  worthy  once  more  of  some 
worship  ;  this  is  the  New  Aristocracy  I  have  chosen,  and 
would  choose,  for  you  !  "  That  is  Suffrage's  opinion.  To  me 
this  populace  of  British  Statues  rises  aloft  over  the  Chaos  of 
our  affairs  like  the  living  symbol  and  consummate  flower  of 
said  Chaos,  and  silently  speaks  the  mournfulest  prophecy. 
Perhaps  as  strange  a  Pantheon  of  brass  gods  as  was  ever  got 
together  in  this  world.  They  stand  there,  poor  wretches, 
gradually  rusting  in  the  sooty  rain  ;  black  and  dismal, — when 
one  thinks  of  them  in  some  haggard  mood  of  the  imagina- 
tion,— like  a  set  of  grisly  undertakers  come  to  bury  the  dead 
spiritualisms  of  mankind.  There  stand  they,  in  all  weathers, 
indicating  to  the  British  Population  such  a  Heaven  and  such 
an  Earth  as  probably  no  Population  ever  had  before.  In  the 
social,  political,  religious,  artistic,  and  other  provinces  of  our 
affairs,  they  point  towards  depths  of  prostrate  abasement 
which  no  man's  thought  has  yet  sounded.  Let  us  timidly 
glance  thitherward  a  little  ;  gaze,  for  moments,  into  those 
abysses  of  spiritual  death, — which,  if  we  cannot  one  day  sound 
them,  and  subdue  them,  will  engulf  us  all ! — And  first  as  to 
this  recipe  of  Popular  Election. 

Hudson  the  railway  king,  if  Popular  Election  be  the  rule, 
seems  to  me  by  far  the  most  authentic  king  extant  in  this  world. 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


247 


Hudson  has  been  '  elected  by  the  people '  so  as  almost  none 
other  is  or  was.  Hudson  solicited  no  vote  ;  his  votes  were 
silent  voluntary  ones,  not  liable  to  be  false  :  he  did  a  thing 
which  men  found,  in  their  inarticulate  hearts,  to  be  worthy  of 
paying  money  for  ;  and  they  paid  it.  What  the  desire  of 
every  heart  was,  Hudson  had  or  seemed  to  have  produced  : 
Scrip  out  of  which  profit  could  be  made.  They  '  voted '  for 
him  by  purchasing  his  scrip  with  a  profit  to  him.  Every  vote 
was  the  spontaneous  product  of  those  men's  deepest  insights 
and  most  practical  convictions,  about  Hudson  and  themselves 
and  this  Universe  :  I  say,  it  was  not  a  spoken  vote,  but  a 
silently-acted  one ;  a  vote  for  once  incapable  of  being  insin- 
cere. What  their  appetites,  intelligences,  stupidities,  and 
pruriences  had  taught  these  men,  they  authentically  told  you 
there.  I  beg  you  to  mark  that  well.  Not  by  all  the  ballot- 
boxes  in  Nature  could  you  have  hoped  to  get,  with  such  ex- 
actness, from  these  men,  what  the  deepest  inarticulate  voice 
of  the  gods  and  of  the  demons  in  them  was,  as  by  this  their 
spontaneous  purchase  of  scrip.  It  is  the  ultimate  rectified 
quintessence  of  these  men's  £  votes  : '  the  distillation  of  their 
very  souls  ;  the  sincerest  sincerity  that  was  in  them.  With- 
out gratitude  to  Hudson,  or  even  without  thought  of  him,  they 
raised  Hudson  to  his  bad  eminence,  not  by  their  voice  given 
once  at  some  hustings  under  the  influence  of  balderdash  and 
beer,  but  by  the  thought  of  their  heart,  by  the  inarticulate, 
indisputable  dictate  of  their  whole  being.  Hudson  inquired 
of  England  :  "What  precious  thing  can  I  do  for  you,  O  en- 
lightened Countrymen  ;  what  may  be  the  value  to  you,  by 
popular  election,  of  this  stroke  of  work  that  lies  in  me  ? " 
Popular  election,  with  universal,  with  household  and  other 
suffrage,  free  as  air,  deep  as  life  and  death,  free  and  deep 
as  spoken  suffrage  never  was  or  could  be,  has  answered  : 
"Pounds  sterling  to  such  and  such  amount  ;  that  is  the  ap- 
parent value  of  thy  stroke  of  work  to  ws, — blockheads  as  we 
are."  Real  value  differs  from  apparent  to  a  frightful  extent 
in  this  world,  try  it  by  what  suffrage  you  will ! 

Hudson's  value  as  a  demigod  being  what  it  was,  his  value 
as  a  maker  of  railways  shall  hardly  concern  us  here.  What 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


Hudson's  real  worth  to  mankind  in  the  matter  of  railways 
might  be  I  cannot  pretend  to  say.  Fact  knows  it  to  the 
uttermost  fraction,  and  will  pay  it  him  yet  ;  but  men  differ 
widely  in  opinion,  and  in  general  do  not  in  the  least  know. 
From  my  own  private  observation  and  conjecture,  I  should 
say,  Trifling  if  any  worth. 

Much  as  we  love  railways,  there  is  one  thing  undeniable  : 
Railways  are  shifting  all  Towns  of  Britain  into  new  places  ;  no 
Town  will  stand  where  it  did,  and  nobody  can  tell  for  a  long 
while  yet  where  it  will  stand.  This  is  an  unexpected,  and  in- 
deed most  disastrous  result.  I  perceive,  railways  have  set  all 
the  Towns  of  Britain  a-clancing.  Reading  is  coming  up  to 
London,  Basingstoke  is  going  down  to  Gosport  or  Southamp- 
ton, Dumfries  to  Liverpool  and  Glasgow  ;  while  at  Crewe,  and 
other  points,  I  see  new  ganglions  of  human  population  estab- 
lishing themselves,  and  the  prophecy  of  metallurgic  cities 
which  were  not  heard  of  before.  Reading,  Basingstoke  and 
the  rest,  the  unfortunate  Towns,  subscribed  money  to  get 
railways  ;  and  it  proves  to  be  for  cutting  their  own  throats. 
Their  business  has  gone  elsewhither  ;  and  they — cannot  stay 
behind  their  business !  They  are  set  a-clancing,  as  I  said ; 
confusedly  waltzing,  in  a  state  of  progressive  dissolution,  to- 
wards the  four  winds ;  and  know  not  where  the  end  of  the 
death-dance  will  be  for  them,  in  what  point  of  space  they  will 
be  allowed  to  rebuild  themselves.    That  is  their  sad  case. 

And  what  an  affair  it  is  in  each  of  the  shops  and  houses  of 
those  Towns,  thus  silently  bleeding  to  death,  or  what  we  call 
dancing  away  to  other  points  of  the  British  territory  :  how 
Joplin  of  Reading,  who  had  anchored  himself  in  that  pleasant 
place,  and  fondly  hoping  to  live  by  upholstery  and  paperhang^ 
ing,  had  wedded,  and  made  friends  there, — awakens  some 
morning,  and  finds  that  his  trade  has  flitted  away  !  Here  it  is 
not  any  longer  ;  it  is  gone  to  London,  to  Bristol :  whither  has 
it  gone?  Joplin  knows  not  whither;  knows  and  sees  only 
that  gone  it  is ;  and  that  he  by  preternatural  sagacity  must 
scent  it  out  again,  follow  it  over  the  world,  and  catch  it  again, 
or  else  die.  Sad  news  for  Joplin  : — indeed  I  fear,  should  his 
Sagacity  be  too  inconsiderable,  he  is  not  unlikely  to  break  his 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


249 


heart,  or  take  to  drinking,  in  these  inextricable  circumstances  S 
And  it  is  the  history,  more  or  less,  in  every  town,  house,  shop 
and  industrial  dwelling-place  of  the  British  Empire  at  this 
moment ; — and  the  cipher  of  afflicted  Joplins  ;  and  the  amount 
of  private  distress,  uncertainty,  discontent  ;  and  withal  of 
'revolutionary  movement,'  created  thereby,  is  tragical  to  think 
of.  This  is.  c  revolutionary  movement '  with  a  witness  ;  revo- 
lution brought  home  to  everybody's  hearth  and  moneysafe 
and  heart  and  stomach. — Which  miserable  result,  with  so 
many  others  from  the  same  source,  what  method  was  there  of 
avoiding  or  indefinitely  mitigating  ?  This  surely,  as  the  be- 
ginning of  all :  that  you  had  made  your  railways  not  in  haste  ; 
that,  at  least,  you  had  spread  the  huge  process,  sure  to  alter 
all  men's  mutual  position  and  relations,  over  a  reasonable 
breadth  of  time  ! 

For  all  manner  of  reasons,  how  much  could  one  have  wished 
that  the  making  of  our  British  railways  had  gone  on  with 
deliberation  ;  that  these  great  works  had  made  themselves  not 
in  five  years  but  in  fif ty-and-five  !  Hudson's  '  worth '  to  rail- 
ways, I  think,  will  mainly  resolve  itself  into  this,  That  he  car- 
ried them  to  completion,  within  the  former  short  limit  of 
time  ;  that  he  got  them  made, — in  extremely  improper  direc- 
tions I  am  told,  and  surely  with  endless  confusion  to  the  in- 
numerable passive  Joplins,  and  likewise  to  the  numerous  ac- 
tive scrip-holders,  a  wide-spread  class,  once  rich,  now  coinless, 
— hastily  in  five  years,  not  deliberately  in  fifty-five.  His 
worth  to  railways  ?  His  worth,  I  take  it,  to  English  railways, 
much  more  to  English  men,  will  turn  out  to  be  extremely  in- 
considerable ;  to  be  incalculable  damage  rather !  Foolish 
railway  people  gave  him  two  millions,  and  thought  it  not 
enough  without  a  Statue  to  boot.  But  Fact  thought,  and  is 
now  audibly  saying,  far  otherwise  !  Bhadamanthus,  had  you 
been  able  to  consult  him,  would  in  nowise  have  given  this 
man  twenty-five  thousand  pounds  for  a  Statue.  What  if  Bhad- 
amanthus doomed  him  rather,  let  us  say,  to  ride  in  Express- 
trains,  nowhither,  for  twenty-five  aeons,  or  to  hang  in  Heaven 
as  a  Locomotive  Constellation,  and  be  a  sign  forever ! 

Fact  and  Suffrage  :  what  a  discrepancy !    Fact  decided  for 


250 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


some  coalshaft  such  as  we  describe.  Suffrage  decides  for  such 
a  column.  Suffrage  having  money  in  its  pocket,  carries  it 
hollow,  for  the  moment.  And  so  there  is  Ray  less  Majesty  ex- 
alted far  above  the  chimney-pots,  with  a  potential  Copper 
Likeness,  twenty-five  thousand  pounds  worth  of  copper  over 
and  above  ;  and  a  King  properly  belonging  only  to  this  epoch. 
— That  there  are  greedy  blockheads  in  huge  majority,  in  all 
epochs,  is  certain  ;  but  that  any  sane  mortal  should  think  of 
counting  their  heads  to  ascertain  who  or  what  is  to  be  King, 
this  is  a  little  peculiar.  All  Democratic  men,  and  members  of 
the  Suffrage  Movement,  it  appears  to  me,  are  called  upon  to 
think  seriously,  with  a  seriousness  approaching  to  despair,  of 
these  things. 

Jefferson  Brick,  the  American  Editor,  twitted  me  with  the 
multifarious  patented  anomalies  of  overgrown  worthless  Dukes, 
Bishops  of  Durham  &c,  which  poor  English  Society  at  pres- 
ent labours  under,  and  is  made  a  solecism  by.  To  which 
what  answer  could  I  make,  except,  that  surely  our  patented 
anomalies  were  some  of  them  extremely  ugly,  and  yet,  alas, 
that  they  were  not  the  ugliest !  I  said  :  "Have  not  you  also 
overgrown  anomalous  Bakes  after  a  sort,  appointed  not  by 
patent?  Overgrown  Monsters  of  Wealth,  namely;  who  have 
made  money  by  dealing  in  cotton,  dealing  in  bacon,  job- 
bing scrip,  digging  metal  in  California ;  who  are  become 
glittering  man-mountains  filled  with  gold  and  preciosities  ; 
revered  by  the  surrounding  flunkies  ;  invested  with  the  real 
powers  of  sovereignty  ;  and  placidly  admitted  by  all  men,  as 
if  Nature  and  Heaven  had  so  appointed  it,  to  be  in  a  sense 
godlike,  to  be  royal,  and  fit  to  shine  in  the  firmament,  though 
their  real  worth  is — what  ?  Brick,  do  you  know  where  human 
creatures  reach  the  supreme  of  ugliness  in  Idols  ?  It  were 
hard  to  know !  We  can  say  only,  All  Idols  have  to  tumble, 
and  the  hugest  of  them  with  the  heaviest  fall :  that  is  our 
chief  comfort,  in  America  as  here. 

"The  Idol  of  Somnauth,  a  mere  mass  of  coarse  crockery 
not  worth  five  shillings  of  anybody's  money,  sat  like  a  great 
staring  god,  with  two  diamonds  for  eyes  ;  worshipped  by  the- 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


251 


neighbouring  black  populations  ;  a  terror  and  divine  mystery 
to  all  mortals,  till  its  day  came.  Till  at  last,  victorious  in  the 
name  of  Allah,  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  riding  up  with 
grim  battle-axe  and  heart  full  of  Moslem  fire,  took  the  liberty 
to  smite  once,  with  right  force  and  rage,  said  ugly  mass  of 
idolatrous  crockery  ;  which  thereupon  shivered,  with  unmelo- 
dious  crash  and  jingle,  into  a  heap  of  ugly  potsherds,  yielding 
from  its  belly  half  a  wagon-load  of  gold  coins.  You  can  read 
it  in  Gibbon, — probably,  too,  in  Lord  Ellenborough.  The 
gold  coins,  the  diamond  eyes,  and  other  valuable  extrinsic 
parts  were  carefully  picked-up  by  the  Faithful ;  confused  jingle 
of  intrinsic  potsherds  was  left  lying  ; — and  the  Idol  of  Som- 
nauth  once  showing  what  it  was,  had  suddenly  come  to  a  con- 
clusion !  Thus  end  all  Idols,  and  intrinsically  worthless  man- 
mountains  never  so  illuminated  with  diamonds,  and  filled  with 
precious  metals,  and  tremulously  worshipped  by  the  neigh- 
bouring flunky  populations  black  or  white  ; — even  thus,  soon- 
er or  later,  without  fail  ;  and  are  shot  hastily,  as  a  heap  of 
potsherds,  into  the  highway,  to  be  crunched  under  wagon- 
wheels,  and  do  Macadam  a  little  service,  being  clearly  abol- 
ished as  gods,  and  hidden  from  man's  recognition,  in  that  or 
other  capacities,  forever  and  a  day  ! 

"  You  do  not  sufficiently  bethink  yon,  my  republican  friend. 
Our  ugliest  anomalies  are  done  by  universal  suffrage,  not  by 
patent.  The  express  nonsense  of  old  Feudalism,  even  now, 
in  its  dotage,  is  as  nothing  to  the  involuntary  nonsense  of 
modern  Anarchy  called  'Freedom,'  'Republicanism,'  and 
other  fine  names,  which  expresses  itself  by  supply  and  de- 
mand !    Consider  it  a  little. 

"  The  Bishop  of  onr  Diocese  is  to  me  an  incredible  man  ; 
and  has,  I  will  grant  you,  very  much  more  money  than  you 
or  I  would  now  give  him  for  his  work.  One  does  not  even 
read  those  Charges  of  his ;  much  preferring  speech  which  is 
articulate.  In  fact,  being  intent  on  a  quiet  life,  you  generally 
keep  on  the  other  side  of  the  hedge  from  him,  and  strictly 
leave  him  to  his  own  fate.  Not  a  credible  man  ; — perhaps 
not  q\  ite  a  safe  man  to  be  concerned  with?  But  what  think 
you  oi  the  '  Bobus  of  Houndsditch '  of  our  parts  ?    He,  Sau- 


252 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


sage-maker  on  the  great  scale,  knows  the  art  of  cutting  fat 
bacon,  and  exposing  it  seasoned  with  gray  pepper  to  advan- 
tage. Better  than  any  other  man  he  knows  this  art ;  and  I 
take  the  liberty  to  say  it  is  a  poor  one.  Well,  the  Bishop  has 
an  income  of  five  thousand  pounds  appointed  him  for  his 
work ;  and  Bobus,  to  such  a  length  has  he  now  pushed  the 
trade  in  sausages,  gains  from  the  universal  suffrage  of  men's 
souls  and  stomachs  ten  thousand  a  year  by  it. 

"  A  poor  art,  this  of  Bobus's,  I  say  ;  and  worth  no  such  rec- 
ompense. For  it  is  not  even  good  sausages  he  makes,  but 
only  extremely  vendible  ones  ;  the  cunning  dog !  Judges 
pronounce  his  sausages  bad,  and  at  the  cheap  price  even 
dear  ;  and  finer  palates,  it  is  whispered,  have  detected  alarm- 
ing symptoms  of  horseflesh,  or  worse,  under  this  cunningly- 
devised  gray-pepper  spice  of  his  ;  so  that  for  the  world  I 
would  not  eat  one  of  his  sausages,  nor  would  you.  You  per- 
ceive he  is  not  an  excellent  honest  sausage-maker,  but  a  dis- 
honest cunning  and  scandalous  sausage-maker ;  worth,  if  he 
could  get  his  deserts,  who  shall  say  what  ?  Probably  certain 
shillings  a  week,  say  forty  ;  possibly  (one  shudders  to  think) 
a  long  round  in  the  treadmill,  and  stripes  instead  of  shillings  ! 
And  yet  what  he  gets,  I  tell  you,  from  universal  suffrage  and 
the  unshackled  ne-plus-ultra  republican  justice  of  mankind, 
is  twice  the  income  of  that  anomalous  Bishop  you  were  talk- 
ing of  ! 

"  The  Bishop  I,  for  my  part,  do  much  prefer  to  Bobus.  The 
Bishop  has  human  sense  and  breeding  of  various  kinds  ;  con- 
siderable knowledge  of  Greek,  if  you  should  ever  want  the 
like  of  that  ;  knowledge  of  many  things  ;  and  speaks  the  Eng- 
lish language  in  a  grammatical  manner.  He  is  bred  to  cour- 
tesy, to  dignified  composure,  as  to  a  second  nature  ;  a  gentle- 
man every  fibre  of  him  ;  which  of  itself  is  something  very 
considerable.  The  Bishop  does  really  diffuse  round  him  an 
influence  of  decorum,  courteous  patience,  solid  adherence  to 
what  is  settled  ;  teaches  practically  the  necessity  of  '  burning 
one's  own  smoke  ; '  and  does  practically  in  his  own  case  burn 
said  smoke,  making  lambent  flame  and  mild  illumination  cfut 
of  it,  for  the  good  of  men  in  several  particulars.  While 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


253 


Bobus,  for  twice  the  annual  money, — brings  sausages,  pos- 
sibly of  horseflesh,  cheaper  to  market  than  another  ! — Brick, 
if  you  will  reflect,  it  is  not  '  aristocratic  England,'  it  is  the 
united  Posterity  of  Adam  who  are  grown,  in  some  essential 
respects,  stupider  than  barbers'  blocks.  Barbers'  blocks 
would  at  least  say  nothing,  and  not  elevate,  by  their  universal 
suffrages,  an  unfortunate  Bobus  to  that  bad  height !  " 

Alas,  if  such,  not  in  their  loose  tongues,  but  in  their  heart 
of  hearts,  is  men's  way  of  judging  about  social  worth,  what 
kind  of  '  new  Aristocracy  '  will  the  inconceivablest  perfection 
of  spoken  Suffrage  ever  yield  us  ?  Suffrage,  I  perceive  well, 
has  quite  other  things  in  store  for  us ;  we  need  not  torment 
poor  Suffrage  for  this  thing !  Our  Intermittent  Friend  says 
once  : 

'Men  do  not  seem  to  be  aware  that  this  their  universal 
ousting  of  unjust,  incapable  and  in  fact  imaginary  Governors, 
is  to  issue  in  the  attainment  of  Governors  who  have  a  right 
and  a  capacity  to  govern.  Far  different  from  that  is  the  issue 
men  contemplate  in  their  present  revolutionary  operations. 
Their  universal  notion  now  is,  that  we  shall  henceforth  do 
without  Governors  ;  that  we  have  got  to  a  new  epoch  in  human 
progress,  in  which  Governing  is  entirely  a  sujDerfluity,  and 
the  attempt  at  doing  it  is  an  offence,  think  several.  By  that 
admirable  invention  of  the  Constitutional  Parliament,  first 
struck-out  in  England,  and  now  at  length  hotly  striven-for 
and  zealously  imitated  in  all  European  countries,  the  task  of 
Government,  any  task  there  may  still  be,  is  done  to  our  hand. 
Perfect  your  Parliament,  cry  all  men  :  apply  the  Ballot-box 
and  Universal  Suffrage  !  the  admirablest  method  ever  imag- 
ined of  counting  heads  and  gathering  indubitable  votes  :  you 
will  thus  gather  the  vote,  vox  or  voice,  of  all  the  two-legged 
animals  without  feathers  in  your  dominion  ;  what  they  think 
is  what  the  gods  think, — is  it  not  ? — and  this  you  shall  go 
and  do. 

'  Whereby,  beyond  dispute,  your  Governor's  task  is  im- 
mensely simplified  ;  and  indeed  the  chief  thing  you  can  now 
require  of  your  Governor  is  that  he  carefully  preserve  his 


254 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


good  humour,  and  do  in  a  handsome  manner  nothing,  or  some 
pleasant  fugle-motions  only.  Is  not  this  a  "  machine  ;  "  mark- 
ing new  epochs  in  the  progress  of  discovery  ?  Machine  for 
doing  Government  too,  as  we  now  do  all  things  by  "machin- 
eiy."  Only  keep  your  free-presses,  ballot-boxes,  upright-shafts 
and  cogwork  in  an  oiled  unobstructed  condition  ;  motive-power 
of  popular  wind  will  do  the  rest.  Here  verily  is  a  mill  that 
beats  Birmingham  hollow  ;  and  marks  "  new  epochs  "  with  a 
witness.  What  a  hopper  this  !  Reap  from  all  fields  whatso- 
ever you  find  standing,  thistledowns,  dockseed,  hemlockseed, 
wheat,  rye  ;  tumble  all  into  the  hopper, — see,  in  soft  blissful, 
continuous  stream,  meal  shall  daily  issue  for  you,  and  the 
bread  of  life  to  mankind  be  sure  !  ' — 

The  aim  of  all  reformers,  parliamentary  and  other,  is  still 
defined  by  them  as 'just  legislation,' just  laws;  with  which 
definition  who  can  quarrel  ?  They  will  not  have  £  class  legis- 
lation,' which  is  a  dreadfully  bad  thing  ;  but  '  all-classes  legis- 
lation,' I  suppose,  which  is  the  right  thing.  Sure  enough, 
just  laws  are  an  excellent  attainment,  the  first  condition  of  all 
prosperity  for  human  creatures  ;  but  few  reflect  how  extremely 
difficult  such  attainment  is  !  Alas,  could  we  once  get  laws 
which  weYejust,  that  is  to  say,  which  were  the  clear  transcript 
of  the  Divine  Laws  of  the  Universe  itself  ;  so  that  each  man 
were  incessantly  admonished,  under  strict  penalties,  by  all 
men,  to  walk  as  the  Eternal  Maker  had  prescribed  ;  and  he 
alone  received  honour  whom  the  Maker  had  made  honourable, 
and  whom  the  Maker  had  made  disgraceful,  disgrace  :  alas, 
were  not  here  the  very  £  Aristocracy '  we  seek  ?  A  new  veri- 
table Hierarchy  of  Heaven, — approximately  such  in  very  truth, 
— -"bringing  Earth  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  blessed  Law  of 
Heaven.  Heroic  men,  the  Sent  of  Heaven,  once  more  bore 
rule  :  and  on  the  throne  of  kings  there  sat  splendent,  not 
King  Hudson,  or  King  Popinjay,  but  the  Bravest  of  existing 
Men  ;  and  on  the  gibbet  there  swung  as  a  tragic  pendulum, 
admonitory  to  Earth  in  the  namo  of  Heaven, — not  some  in- 
significant, abject,  necessitous  outcast,  who  had  violently,  in 
his  extreme  misery  and  darkness,  stolen  a  leg  of  mutton, — 
;  but  veritably  the  Supreme  Scoundrel  of  the  Common  wealth, 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


255 


who  in  his  insatiable  greed  and  bottomless  atrocity  had  long, 
hoodwinking  the  poor  world,  gone  himself,  and  led  multi- 
tudes to  go,  in  the  ways  of  gilded  human  baseness ;  seeking 
temporary  profit  (scrip,  first-class  claret,  social  honour,  and 
the  like  small  ware),  where  only  eternal  loss  was  possible  ; 
and  who  now,  stripped  of  all  his  gildings  and  cunningly- 
devised  speciosities,  swung  there  an  ignominious  detected 
scoundrel  ;  testifying  aloud  to  all  the  earth  :  "Be  not  scoun- 
drels, not  even  gilt  scoundrels,  any  one  of  you  ;  for  God,  and 
not  the  Devil,  is  verily  king,  and  this  is  where  it  ends,  if  even 
this  be  the  end  of  it  ! " 

O  Heaven,  O  Earth,  what  an  '  attainment '  were  here,  could 
we  but  hope  to  see  it !  Reformed  Parliament,  People's  League, 
Hume-Cobden  agitation,  tremendous  cheers,  new  Battles  of 
Naseby,  French  Revolution,  and  Horrors  of  French  Revolu- 
tion,— all  things  were  cheap  and  light  to  the  attainment  of 
this.  For  this  were  in  fact  the  millennium  ;  and  indeed  noth- 
ing less  than  this  can  be  it. 

But  I  say  it  is  dreadfully  difficult  to  attain  !  And  though 
'  class  legislation '  is  not  it,  yet,  alas,  neither  is  '  all-classes 
legislation '  in  the  least  certain  to  be  it.  All  classes,  if  they 
happen  not  to  be  wise,  heroic  classes, — how,  by  the  cunning- 
est  jumbling  of  them  together,  will  you  ever  get  a  wisdom  or 
heroism  out  of  them  ?  Once  more  let  me  remind  you,  it  is 
impossible  forever.  Unwisdom,  contradiction  to  the  gods  : 
how,  from  the  mere  vamping-together  of  hostile  voracities 
and  opacities,  never  so  dextrously  or  copiously  combined, 
can  or  could  you  expect  anything  else  ?  Can  any  man  bring 
a  clean  thing  out  of  an  unclean  ?  No  man.  Voracities  and 
opacities,  blended  together  in  never  such  cunningly-devised 
proportions,  will  not  yield  noblenesses  and  illuminations  ; 
they  cannot  do  it.  Parliamentary  reform,  extension  of  the 
suffrage  ?  Good  Heavens,  how  by  the  mere  enlargement  of 
your  circle  of  ingredients,  by  the  mere  flinging-in  of  new 
opacities  and  voracities,  will  you  have  a  better  chance  to 
distil  a  wisdom  from  that  foul  cauldron,  which  is  merely  big- 
ger, not  by  hypothesis  better  ?  You  will  have  a  better  chance 
to  distil  zero  from  it  ;  evil  elements  from  all  sides,  now  more 


256 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


completely  extinguishing  one  another,  so  that  mutual  destruc- 
tion, like  that  of  the  Kilkenny  cats,  a  Parliament  which  pro- 
duces parliamentary  eloquence  only,  and  no  social  guidance 
either  bad  or  good  will  be  the  issue, — as  we  now  in  these 
years  sorrowfully  see. 

Universal  suffrage  :  what  a  scheme  to  substitute  for  the  rev- 
elation of  God's  eternal  Law,  the  official  declaration  of  the 
account  of  heads  !  It  is  as  if  men  had  abdicated  their  right  to 
attempt  following  the  abovesaid  Law,  and  with  melancholy 
resignation  had  agreed  to  give  it  up,  and  take  temporary  peace 
and  good  agreement  as  a  substitute.  In  all  departments  of 
our  affairs  it  is  so, — literary,  moral,  political,  social ;  and  in 
all  of  them  it  is  and  remains  eternally  wrong.  In  every  de- 
partment, literary,  moral,  political,  social,  the  man  that  pre- 
tends to  have  what  is  angrily  called  a  choice  of  his  own,  which 
will  mean  at  least  some  remnant  of  a  feeling  in  him  that  Na- 
ture and  Fact  do  still  claim  a  choice  of  their  own,  and  are 
like  to  make  it  good  yet, — such  man  is  felt  as  a  kind  of  inter- 
loper and  dissocial  person,  who  obstructs  the  harmony  of 
affairs,  and  is  out  of  keeping  with  the  universal-suffrage  ar- 
rangement that  has  been  entered  upon.  Why  not  decide  it 
by  dice  ?  Universal  suffrage  for  your  oracle  is  equivalent  to 
flat  despair  of  answer.  Set  up  such  oracle,  you  proclaim  to 
all  men  :  "  Friends,  there  is  in  Nature  no  answer  to  your 
question  ;  and  you  don't  believe  in  dice.  Try  to  esteem  this 
oracle  a  divine  one,  and  be  thankful  that  you  can  thereby 
keep  the  peace,  and  go  with  an  answer  from  the  shrine  of 
chaotic  Chance." 

Peace  is  good  ;  but  woe  to  the  cowardly  caitiff  of  a  man,  or 
collection  of  cowardly  caitiffs  styling  themselves  Nation,  that 
will  have  1  peace  '  on  these  terms  !  They  will  save  their  ig- 
noble skin  at  the  expense  of  their  eternal  loyalty  to  the  high- 
est God.  Peace  ?  Better  war  to  the  knife,  war  till  we  all 
die,  than  such  a  'peace.'  Reject  it,  my  friend,  I  advise  thee  ; 
silently  swear  by  God  above,  that,  on  earth  below,  thou  for 
thy  part  never  wilt  accept  it.  Be  it  forever  far  from  us,  my 
poor  scattered  friends.    Let  us  fly  to  the  rooks  rather  ;  and 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


257 


uilently  appealing  to  the  Eternal  Heaven,  await  an  hour  which 
is  full  surely  coming,  when  we  too  shall  have  grown  to  a  re- 
spectable  1  company  of  poor  men,'  authorised  to  rally,  and 
with  celestial  lightning,  and  with  terrestrial  steel  and  such 
good  weapons  as  there  may  be,  spend  all  our  blood  upon 
it !  

After  all,  why  was  not  the  Hudson  Testimonial  completed  ? 
As  Moses  lifted  up  the  Brazen  Serpent  in  the  wilderness,  why 
was  not  Hudson's  Statue  lifted  up  ?  Once  more  I  say,  it 
might  have  done  us  good.  Thither  too,  in  a  sense,  poor 
poison-stricken  mortals  might  have  looked,  and  found  some 
healing !  For  many  reasons,  this  alarming  populace  of  Brit- 
ish Statues  wanted  to  have  its  chief.  The  liveliest  type  of 
Choice  by  Suffrage  ever  given.  The  consummate  flower  of 
universal  Anarchy  in  the  Commonwealth,  and  in  the  hearts  of 
men  :  was  not  this  Statue  such  a  flower  ;  or  do  we  look  for 
one  more  perfect  and  consummate  ? 


Of  social  Hierarchies,  and  Religions  the  parent  of  these, 
why  speak,  in  presence  of  social  Anarchy  such  as  is  here  sym- 
bolised ?  The  Apotheosis  of  Hudson  beckons  to  still  deeper 
gulfs  on  the  religious  side  of  our  affairs  ;  into  which  one  shud- 
ders to  look  down.  For  the  eye  rests  only  on  the  blackness 
of  darkness  ;  and,  shrunk  to  hissing  whispers,  inaudible  ex- 
cept to  the  finer  ear,  come  moanings  of  the  everlasting  tem- 
pest, and  tones  of  alii  guai.  Nor  is  a  certain  vertigo  quite  absent 
from  the  strongest  heads  ;  a  mad  impulse  to  take  the  leap, 
then,  and  dwell  with  Eternal  Death,  since  it  seems  to  be  the 
rule  at  present !  One  hurried  glance  or  two, — holding  well  by 
what  parapets  there  still  are  ;  and  then  let  us  hasten  to  be- 
gone. 

Worship,  what  we  call  human  religion,  has  undergone  vari- 
ous phases  in  the  history  of  mankind.    To  the  primitive  man 
all  Forces  of  Nature  were  divine  :  either  for  propitiation  or 
for  admiration,  many  things,  and  in  a  sense  all  things,  de- 
17 


258 


LA  TTER-DA  T  PAMPHLETS. 


manded  worship  from  him.  But  especially  the  Noble  Human 
Soul  was  divine  to  him  ;  and  announced,  as  it  ever' does,  with 
direct  impressiveness,  the  Inspiration  of  the  Highest  ;  de- 
manding worship  from  the  primitive  man.  Whereby,  as  has 
been  explained  elsewhere,  this  latter  form  of  worship,  Hero- 
worship  as  we  call  it,  did,  among  the  ancient  peoples,  attract 
and  subdue  to  itself  all  other  forms  of  human  worship  ;  irra- 
diating them  all  with  its  own  perennial  worth,  which  indeed 
is  all  the  worth  they  had,  or  that  any  worship  can  have. 
Human  worship  everywhere,  so  far  as  there  lay  any  worth  in 
it,  was  of  the  nature  of  a  Hero-worship  ;  this  Universe  wholly, 
this  temporary  Flame-image  of  the  Eternal,  was  one  beautiful 
and  terrible  Energy  of  Heroisms,  presided  over  by  a  Divine  No- 
bleness or  Infinite  Hero.  Divine  Nobleness  forever  friendly 
to  the  noble,  forever  hostile  to  the  ignoble  :  all  manner  of 
'moral  rules,' and  well  'sanctioned'  too,  flowed  naturally  out 
of  this  primeval  Intuition  into  Nature  ; — which,  I  believe,  is 
still  the  true  fountain  of  moral  rules,  though  a  much-forgotten 
one  at  present ;  and  indeed  it  seems  to  be  the  one  unchange- 
able, eternally  indubitable  '  Intuition  into  Nature '  we  have 
yet  heard  of  in  these  parts. 

To  the  primitive  man,  whether  he  looked  at  moral  rule,  or 
even  at  physical  fact,  there  was  nothing  not  divine.  Flame 
was  the  God  Loki,  &c.  ;  this  visible  Universe  was  wholly  the 
vesture  of  an  Invisible  Infinite  ;  every  event  that  occurred  in 
it  a  symbol  of  the  immediate  presence  of  God.  Which  it  in- 
trinsically is,  and  forever  will  be,  let  poor  stupid  mortals  re- 
member or  forget  it !  The  difference  is,  not  that  God  has 
withdrawn  ;  but  that  men's  minds  have  fallen  hebetated,  stu- 
pid, that  their  hearts  are  dead,  awakening  only  to  some  life 
about  meal-time  and  cookery-time  ;  and  their  eyes  are  grown 
dim,  blinkard,  a  kind  of  horn-eyes  like  those  of  owls,  availa- 
ble chiefly  for  catching  mice. 

Most  excellent  Fitzsmithytrough,  it  is  a  long  time  since  I 
have  ^topped  short  in  admiring  your  stupendous  railway  mir- 
acles. I  was  obliged  to  strike  work,  and  cease  admiring  in 
that  direction.  Very  stupendous  indeed  ;  considerable  im- 
provement in  old  roadways  and  wheel-and-axle  carriages  ;  ve- 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


259 


locity  unexpectedly  great,  distances  attainable  ditto  ditto  :  all 
this  is  undeniable.  But,  alas,  all  this  is  still  small  deer  for 
me,  my  excellent  Fitzsmithytrough  ;  truly  nothing  more  than 
an  unexpected  take  of  mice  for  the  owlish  part  of  you  and  me. 
Distances,  you  unfortunate  Fitz  ?  The  distances  of  London 
to  Aberdeen,  to  Ostend,  to  Vienna,  are  still  infinitely  inade- 
quate to  me  !  Will  you  teach  me  the  winged  flight  through 
Immensity,  up  to  the  Throne  dark  with  excess  of  bright  ? 
You  unfortunate,  you  grin  as  an  ape  would  at  such  a  ques- 
tion ;  you  do  not  know  that  unless  you  can  reach  thither  in 
some  effectual,  most  veritable  sense,  you  are  a  lost  Fitzsmithy- 
trough, doomed  to  Hela's  death-realm  and  the  Abyss  where 
mere  brutes  are  buried.  I  do  not  want  cheaper  cotton,  swifter 
railways  ;  I  want  what  Novalis  calls  '  God,  Freedom,  Immor- 
tality : '  will  swift  railways,  and  sacrifices  to  Hudson,  help  me 
towards  that  ? — 

As  propitiation  or  as  admiration,  '  worship '  still  continues 
among  men,  will  always  continue  ;  and  the  phase  it  has  in 
any  given  epoch  may  be  taken  as  the  ruling  phenomenon 
which  determines  all  others  in  that  epoch.  If  Odin,  who  '  in- 
vented runes,'  or  literatures,  and  rhythmic  logical  speech,  and 
taught  men  to  despise  death,  is  worshipped  in  one  epoch ; 
and  if  Hudson,  who  conquered  railway  directors,  and  taught 
men  to  become  suddenly  rich  by  scrip,  is  worshipped  in  an- 
other,— the  characters  of  these  two  epochs  must  differ  a  good 
deal !  Nay,  the  worst  of  some  epochs  is,  they  have  along  with 
their  real  worship  an  imaginary,  and  are  conscious  only  of  the 
latter  as  worship.  They  keep  a  set  of  gods  or  fetishes,  reck- 
oned respectable,  to  which  they  mumble  prayers,  asking  them- 
selves and  others  triumphantly,  "  Are  not  these  respectable 
gods  ?  "  and  all  the  while  their  real  worship,  or  heart's  love 
and  admiration,  which  alone  is  worship,  concentrates  itself  on 
quite  other  gods  and  fetishes, — on  Hudsons  and  scrips,  for 
instance.  Thus  is  the  miserable  epoch  rendered  twice  and 
tenfold  miserable,  and  in  a  manner  lost  beyond  redemption  ; 
having  superadded  to  its  stupid  Idolatries,  and  brutish  forget- 
tings  of  the  true  God,  which  are  leading  it  down  daily  towards 
ruin,  an  immense  Hypocrisy,  which  is  the  quintessence  of  all 


260 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


idolatries  and  misbeliefs  and  unbeliefs,  and  taken  refuge  un- 
der that,  as  under  a  thing  safe  !  Europe  generally  has  lain 
there  a  long  time  ;  England  I  think  for  about  two  hundred 
years,  spinning  certain  cottons  notably  the  while,  and  think- 
ing it  all  right, — which  it  was  very  far  from  being.  But  the 
time  of  accounts,  slowly  advancing,  has  arrived  at  last  for 
Europe,  and  is  knocking  at  the  door  of  England  too  ;  and  it 
will  be  seen  whether  universal  make-believe  can  be  the  rule 
in  English  or  human  things  ;  whether  respectable  Hebrew 
and  other  fetishes,  combined  with  real  worship  of  Yorkshire 
and  other  scrip,  will  answer  the  purpose  here  below  or  not ! 

It  is  certain,  whatever  gods  or  fetishes  a  man  may  have 
about  him,  and  pay  tithes  to,  and  mumble  prayers  to,  the  real 
'  religion '  that  is  in  him  is  his  practical  ffei'o-ivorshiji.  Whom 
or  what  do  you  in  your  very  soul  admire,  and  strive  to  imitate 
and  emulate  ;  is  it  God's  servant  or  the  Devil's  ?  Clearly  this 
is  the  whole  question.  There  is  no  other  religion  in  the  man 
■which  can  be  of  the  slightest  consequence  in  comparison. 
Theologies,  doxologies,  orthodoxies,  heterodoxies,  are  not  of 
moment  except  as  subsidiary  towards  a  good  issue  in  this  ;  if 
they  help  well  in  it,  they  are  good  ;  if  not  well  or  at  all,  they 
are  nothing  or  bad. 

This  also  is  certain,  Nations  that  do  their  Hero-worship  well 
are  blessed  and  victorious  ;  Nations  that  do  it  ill  are  accursed, 
and  in  all  fibres  of  their  business  grown  daily  more  so,  till 
their  miserable  afflictive  and  offensive  situation  becomes  at 
last  unendurable  to  Heaven  and  to  Earth,  and  the  so-called 
Nation,  now  an  unhappy  Populace  of  Misbelievers  (miscreants 
was  the  old  name),  bursts  into  revolutionary  tumult,  and 
either  reforms  or  else  annihilates  itself.  How  otherwise  ? 
Know  whom  to  honour  and  emulate  and  follow ;  know  whom 
to  dishonour  and  avoid,  and  coerce  under  hatches,  as  a  foul 
rebellious  thing  :  this  is  all  the  Law  and  all  the  Prophets.  All 
conceivable  evangels,  bibles,  homiletics,  liturgies  and  litanies, 
and  temporal  and  spiritual  lawbooks  for  a  man  or  a  people, 
issue  practically  there.  Be  right  in  that,  essentially  you  are 
not  wrong  in  anything  ;  you  read  this  Universe  tolerably 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


aright,  and  are  in  the  way  to  interpret  well  what  the  will  of 
its  Maker  is.  Be  wrong  in  that,  had  you  liturgies  the  recom- 
mendablest  in  Nature,  and  bodies- of-divinity  as  big  as  an 
Indiaman,  it  helps  you  not  a  whit ;  you  are  wrong  in  all 
things. 

How  in  anything  can  you  be  right  ?  You  read  this  Universe 
in  the  inmost  meaning  of  it  icrong :  gross  idolatrous  Misbelief 
is  what  I  have  to  recognise  in  you  ;  and,  superadded,  such  a 
faith  in  the  saving  virtue  of  that  deadliest  of  vices,  Hypocrisy, 
as  no  People  ever  had  before !  Beautiful  recommendable 
liturgies?  Your  liturgies,  the  recommendablest  in  Nature, 
are  to  me  alarming  and  distressing  ;  a  turning  of  the  Calmuck 
Prayer-mill, — not  my  way  of  praying.  This  immense  asth- 
matic spiritual  Hurdygurdy,  issuing  practically  in  a  set  of 
demigods  like  Hudson,  what  is  the  good  of  it ;  why  will  you 
keep  grinding  if  under  poor  men's  windows  ?  Since  Hudson 
is  Vishnu,  let  the  Shasters  and  Vedas  be  conformable  to  him. 
Why  chant  divine  psalms  which  belonged  to  a  different  Dis- 
pensation, and  are  now  become  idle  and  far  worse?  Not 
melodious  to  me,  such  a  chant,  in  such  a  time  !  The  sound 
of  it,  if  you  are  not  yet  quite  dead  to  spiritual  sounds,  is 
frightful  and  bodeful.  I  say,  this  litany  of  yours,  were  the 
wretched  populace  and  population  never  so  unanimous  and 
loud  in  it,  is  a  thing  no  God  can  hear  ;  your  miserable  '  relig- 
ion,' as  you  call  it,  is  an  idolatry  of  the  nature  of  Mumbojumbo, 
and  I  would  advise  you  to  discontinue  it  rather.  You  are 
Infidels,  persons  without  faith  ;  not  believing  what  is  true  but 
what  is  untrue  ;  Miscreants,  as  the  old  fathers  well  called  you, 
— appointed  too  inevitably,  unless  you  can  repent  and  alter 
s  >on  (of  which  I  see  no  symptoms),  to  a  fearful  doom  ! 

It  was  always  so,"  you  indolently  say  ?  No,  Friend  Heavy- 
si  lo,  jt  was  not  always  so,  and  even  till  lately  was  never  so ; 
and  I  would  much  recommend  you  to  sweep  that  foolish  no- 
tion, which  you  often  fling  at  me,  and  always  keep  about  you 
as  one  of  your  main  consolations,  quite  out  of  your  head. 
Once  the  notion  was  my  own  too  ;  I  know  the  notion  very 
well !  And  I  will  invite  }rou  to  ask  yourself  in  all  wa}rs,  Wheth- 
er it  is  not  possibly  a  rather  torpid  and  poisonous,  and  like- 


262 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


wise  an  altogether  incorrect  and  delusive  notion  ?  Capable 
I  assure  you,  of  being  quite  swept  out  of  a  man's  head  ;  and 
greatly  needing  to  be  so,  if  the  man  would  do  any  '  reform,1 
or  other  useful  work,  in  this  his  day  ! 

Till  such  notion  go  about  its  business,  there  cannot  even 
be  the  attempt  towards  reform.  Not  so  much  as  the  pulling 
down,  and  melting  into  warming-pans,  of  those  poor  Brazen 
Representatives  of  Anarchy  can  be  accomplished  ;  but  they 
will  stand  there  prophesying  as  now,  "  Here  is  the  '  New 
Aristocracy '  you  want  ;  down  on  your  knees,  ye  Christian 
souls  !  " — O  my  friend,  and  after  Hudson  and  the  other  Idols 
have  quite  gone  to  warming-pans,  have  you  computed  what 
agonistic  centuries  await  us,  before  any  '  New  Aristocracy ' 
worth  calling  by  the  name  of  '  real,'  can  by  likelihood  prove 
attainable  ?  From  the  stormful  trampling-down  of  Sham  Hu- 
man Worth,  and  casting  it  with  wrath  and  scorn  into  the 
meltingpot,  onward  to  the  silent  sad  repentant  recognition  of 
Real  Human  Worth,  and  the  capability  of  again  doing  that 
some  pious  reverence,  some  reverence  which  were  not  practi- 
cally worse  than  none  :  have  you  measured  what  an  interval  is 
there  ?  Centuries  of  desperate  wrestle  against  Earth  and  Hell, 
on  the  part  of  all  the  brave  men  that  are  born.  Too  true  this, 
though  figuratively  spoken  !  Perilous  tempestuous  struggle 
and  pilgrimage,  continual  marching  battle  with  the  mud-ser- 
pents of  this  Earth  and  the  demons  of  the  Pit — centuries  of 
such  a  marching  fight  (continually  along  the  edge  of  Red 
Republic  too,  and  the  Abyss)  as  brave  men  were  not  often 
called  to  in  History  before  ! — And  the  brave  men  will  not  yet 
so  much  as  gird-on  their  harness  ?  They  sit  indolently  say- 
ing, "It  is  already  all  as  it  can  be,  as  it  was  wont  to  be  ;  and 
universal  suffrage  and  tremendous  cheers  will  manage  it ! — " 

Collins' s  old  Peerage-Book,  a  dreadfully  dull  production, 
fills  one  with  unspeakable  reflections.  Beyond  doubt  a  most 
dull  production,  one  of  the  darkest  in  the  book  kind  ever  real- 
ised by  Chaos  and  man's  brain  ;  and  it  is  properly  all  we  Eng- 
lish have  for  a  Biographical  Dictionary ; — nay,  if  you  think 
farther  of  it,  for  a  National  Bible.  Friend  Heavyside  is  much 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


2G3 


astonished  ;  but  I  see  what  I  mean  here,  and  have  long  seen. 
Clear  away  the  dust  from  your  eyes,  and  you  will  ask  this 
question,  What  is  the  Bible  of  a  Nation,  the  practically-cred- 
ited God's-Message  to  a  Nation  ?  Is  it  not,  beyond  all  else, 
the  authentic  Biography  of  its  Heroic  Souls  ?  This  is  the  real 
record  of  the  Appearances  of  God  in  the  History  of  a  Nation  ; 
this,  which  all  men  to  the  very  marrow  of  their  bones  can  be- 
lieve, and  which  teaches  all  men  what  the  nature  of  the  Uni- 
verse, when  you  go  to  work  in  it,  really  is.  What  the  Universe 
was  thought  to  be  in  Judea  and  other  places,  this  too  may  be 
very  interesting  to  know :  but  what  it  is  in  England  here 
where  we  live  and  have  our  work  to  do,  that  is  the  interesting 
point. — '£  The  Universe  ?  "  M'Croudy  answers.  "  It  is  a  huge 
dull  Cattle-stall  and  St.  Catharine's  Wharf  ;  with  a  few  pleas- 
ant apartments  upstairs  for  those  that  can  make  money.  Make 
money  ;  and  don't  bother  about  the  Universe ! "  That  is 
M'Croudy 's  notion  ;  reckoned  a  quiet,  innocent  and  rather 
wholesome  notion  just  now  ;  yet  clearly  fitter  for  a  reflective 
pig  than  for  a  man  ; — working  continual  damnation  therefore, 
however  quiet  it  be  ;  and  indeed  I  perceive  it  is  one  of  the 
damnablest  notions  that  ever  came  into  the  head  of  any 
two-legged  animal  without  feathers  in  this  world.  That  is 
M'Croudy 's  Bible  ;  his  Apology,  poor  fellow,  for  the  Want  of 
a  Bible. 

But  how,  among  so  many  Shakspeares,  and  thinkers,  and 
heroic  singers,  our  National  Bible  should  be  in  such  a  state  ; 
and  how  a  poor  dull  Bookseller  should  have  been  left, — not  to 
write  in  rhythmic  coherenc}',  worthy  of  a  Poet  and  of  all  our 
Poets, — but  to  shovel  together,  or  indicate,  in  huge  rubbish 
mountains  incondite  as  Chaos,  the  materials  for  writing  such 
a  Book  of  Books  for  England  :  this  is  abundantly  amazing  to 
me,  and  I  wish  much  it  could  duly  amaze  us  all.  Literature 
has  no  nobler  task  ; — in  fact  it  has  that  one  task,  and  except 
it  be  idle  rope-dancing,  no  other.  '  The  highest  problem  of 
Literature,'  says  Novalis,  very  justly,  'is  the  Writing  of  a 
Bible.' 

Nevertheless,  among  these  dust-mountains,  with  their  anti- 
quarian excerpts  and  sepulchral  brasses,  it  is  astonishing  what 


264 


LATTER-DA  Y  PAMPHLETS. 


strange  fragments  you  do  turn  up,  miraculous  talismans  to  a 
reader  that  will  think, — windows  through  which  an  old  sunk 
world,  as  yet  all  built  upon  veracity,  and  full  of  rugged  noble- 
ness, becomes  visible  ;  to  the  mute  wonder  of  the  modern 
mind.  It  struck  me  much,  that  of  these  ancient  peerages  a 
very  great  majority  had  visibly  had  authentic  'heroes'  for 
their  founders  ;  noble  men,  of  whose  worth  no  clearsighted 
King  could  be  in  doubt ;  and  that,  in  their  descendants  too, 
there  did  not  cease  a  strain  of  heroism  for  some  time, — the 
peership  generally  dying  out,  and  disappearing,  not  long  after 
that  ceased.  What  a  world,  that  old  sunk  one  ;  Real  Gover- 
nors governing  in  it ;  Shams  not  yet  anywhere  recognised  as 
tolerable  in  it !  A  world  whose  practical  president  was  not 
Chaos  with  ballot-boxes,  whose  outcome  was  not  Anarchy  plus 
a  street-constable.  In  how  high  and  true  a  sense,  the  Al- 
mighty with  continual  enforcement  of  his  Laws  still  presided 
there  ;  and  in  all  things  as  yet  there  was  some  degree  of 
blessedness  and  nobleness  there  ! 

One's  heart  is  sore  to  think  how  far,  how  very  far  all  this 
has  vanished  from  us  ;  how  the  very  tradition  of  it  has  dis- 
appeared ;  and  it  has  ceased  to  be  credible,  to  seem  desirable. 
Till  the  like  of  it  return, — yes,  my  constitutional  friend,  such 
is  the  sad  fact,  till  the  like  of  it,  in  new  form,  adapted  to  the 
new  times,  be  again  achieved  by  us  ;  we  are  not  properly  a 
society  at  all ;  we  are  a  lost  gregarious  horde,  with  Kings  of 
Scrip  on  this  hand,  and  Famishing  Connaughts  and  Distressed 
Needlewomen  on  that — presided  over  by  the  Anarch  Old.  A 
lost  horde, — who,  in  bitter  feeling  of  the  intolerable  injustice 
that  presses  upon  all  men,  will  not  long  be  able  to  continue 
even  gregarious  ;  but  will  have  to  split  into  street-barricades, 
and  internecine  battle  with  one  another  ;  and  to  fight,  if  wis- 
dom for  some  new  real  Peerage  be  not  granted  us,  till  we  all 
die,  mutually  butchered,  and  so  rest, — so  if  not  otherwise  ! 

Till  the  time  of  James  the  First,  I  find  that  real  heroic  merit 
more  or  less  was  actually  the  origin  of  peerages  ;  never,  till 
towards  the  end  of  that  bad  reign,  were  peerages  bargained 
for,  or  bestowed  on  men  palpably  of  no  worth  except  their 
money  or  connexion.    But  the  evil  practice,  once  begun,  spread 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


265 


rapidly  ;  and  now  the  Peerage-Book  is  what  we  see  ; — a  thing 
miraculous  in  the  other  extreme.  A  kind  of  Proteus'  nock, 
very  curious  to  meet  upon  the  lofty  mountains,  so  many  of  them 
being  natives  of  the  deep ! — Our  menagerie  of  live  Peers  in  Par- 
liament is  like  that  of  our  Brazen  Statues  in  the  market-place  ; 
the  selection  seemingly  is  made  much  in  the  same  way,  and 
with  the  same  degree  of  felicity,  and  successful  accuracy  in 
choice.  Our  one  steady  regulated  supply  is  the  class  definable 
as  Supreme  Stump-Orators  in  the  Lawyer  department  ;  the 
class  called  Chancellors  flows  by  something  like  fixed  conduits 
towards  the  Peerage  ;  the  rest,  like  our  Brazen  Statues,  come 
by  popular  rule-of-thumb. 

Stump-Orators,  supreme  or  other,  are  not  beautiful  to  me 
in  these  days  :  but  the  immense  power  of  Lawyers  among  us 
is  sufficiently  intelligible.  I  perceive,  it  proceeds  from  two 
causes.  First,  they  preside  over  the  management  and  security 
of  '  Property,'  which  is  our  God  at  present ;  they  are  thus  prop- 
erly our  Pontiffs,  the  highest  Priests  we  have.  Then  further- 
more they  possess  the  talent  most  valued,  that  of  the  Tongue  ; 
and  seem  to  us  the  most  gifted  of  our  intelligences,  thereby 
provoking  a  spontaneous  loyalty  and  worship. 

What  think  you  of  a  country  whose  kings  go  by  genealogy, 
and  are  the  descendants  of  successful  Lawyers  ?  A  poor 
weather-worn,  tanned,  curried,  wind-dried  human  creature, 
called  a  Chancellor,  all  or  almost  all  gone  to  horsehair  and  of- 
ficiality ;  the  whole  existence  of  him  tanned,  by  long  macera- 
tion, public  exposure,  tugging  and  manipulation,  to  the  tough- 
ness of  Yorkshire  leather, — meseems  I  have  seen  a  beautifuler 
man !  Not  a  leather  man  would  I  by  preference  appoint  to 
beget  my  kings.  Not  lovely  to  me  is  the  leather  sj^ecies  of 
men  ;  to  whose  tanned  soul  God's  Universe  has  become  a  jan- 
gling logic-cockpit  and  little  other.  If  indeed  it  have  not  be- 
come far  less  and  worse  ;  for  the  wretched  tanned  Chancellor, 
I  am  told,  is  usually  acquainted  with  the  art  of  lying  too,— 
considerable  part  of  his  trade,  as  I  have  been  informed,  is  the 
talent  of  lying  in  a  way  that  cannot  be  laid  hold  of  ;  a  dread- 
ful trick  to  learn  !  Out  of  such  a  man  there  cannot  be  ex- 
pected much  'revelation  of  the  Beautiful,' I  should  say.— 0 


266 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


Bull,  were  I  in  your  place,  I  would  try  either  to  get  other 
Peers,  or  else  to  abolish  the  concern, — which  latter  indeed,  by 
your  acquiescence  in  such  nominations,  and  by  many  other 
symptoms,  I  judge  to  be  unconsciously  your  fixed  intention. 

You  have  seen  many  Chancellors  made  Peers  in  these  late 
generations,  Mr.  Bull.  And  now  tell  me,  which  was  the  Chan- 
cellor you  did  really  love  or  honour,  to  any  remarkable  de- 
gree ?  Alas,  you  never  within  authentic  memory  loved  any  of 
them  ;  you  couldn't,  no  man  could  !  You  lazily  stared  with 
some  semblance  of  admiration  at  the  big  wig,  huge  purse, 
reputation  for  divine  talent,  and  sublime  proficiency  in  the  art 
of  tongue-fence  :  but  to  love  him, — that,  Mr.  Bull,  was,  once 
for  all,  a  thing  you  could  not  manage.  Who  of  the  seed  of 
Adam  could  ?  From  the  time  of  Chancellor  Bacon  downwards 
(and  beyond  that  your  Chancellors  are  dark  to  you  as  the 
Muftis  of  Constantinople),  I  challenge  you  to  show  me  one 
Chancellor  for  whom,  had  the  wigs,  purses,  reputations  &c. 
been  peeled  off  him,  you  would  have  given  his  weight  in 
Smithfield  beef  sinking  offal.  You  unhappy  Bull,  governed 
by  Kings  you  have  not  the  smallest  regard  for  ;  wandering  in 
an  extinct  world  of  wearisome,  oppressive  and  expensive  shad- 
ows,— nothing  real  in  it  but  the  Smithfield  beef,  nothing  pre- 
ternatural in  it  but  the  Chartisms  and  threatened  street-barri- 
cades, and  this  not  celestial  but  infernal ! 

Sure  enough,  I  find,  O  Heavyside,  England  once  was  a 
Hierarchy  ;  as  every  Human  Society,  not  either  dead  or  else 
hastening  towards  death,  always  is  :  but  it  has  long  ceased  to 
be  so  to  any  tolerable  degree  of  perfection  ;  and  is  now  by  its 
Hudson  and  other  Testimonials,  testifying  in  a  silent  way  to 
the  thoughtful,  what  otherwise,  by  its  thousandfold  anarchic 
depravities,  miseries,  god-forgettings  and  open  devil-worships, 
it  has  long  loudly  taught  them  to  expect,  that  we  are  now 
wending  towards  the  culmination  in  this  particular.  That  to 
the  modern  English  populations,  Supreme  Hero  and  Supreme 
Scoundrel  are,  perhaps  as  nearly  as  is  possible  to  human 
creatures,  indistinguishable.  That  it  is  totally  uncertain,  per- 
haps even  the  odds  against  you,  whether  the  figure  whom  said 
population  mount  to  the  place  of  honour,  is  not  in  Nature  and 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


2C>7 


Fact  dishonourable  ;  whether  the  man  to  whom  they  raise  a 
column  does  not  deserve  a  coalshaft.  And  in  fine,  poor  devils, 
that  their  universal  suffrage,  as  spoken,  as  acted,  meditated, 
and  imagined  ;  universal  suffrage, — I  do  not  say  ballot-boxed 
and  cunningly  constitutionalised,  but  boiled,  distilled,  di- 
gested, quintessenced,  till  you  get  into  the  very  heart's  heart 
of  it, — is,  to  the  rational  soul,  except  for  stock-exchange,  and 
the  like  very  humble  practical  purposes,  worth  express  zero, 
or  nearly  so.  I  think  probably  as  near  zero  as  the  unassisted 
human  faculties  and  destinies  ever  came,  or  are  like  to  come. 

Hierarchy  ?  O  Heaven  !  If  Chaos  himself  sat  umpire,  what 
better  could  he  do  ?  Here  are  a  set  of  human  demigods,  as  if 
chosen  to  his  hand.  Hierarchy  with  a  vengeance  ! — if  instead 
of  God,  a  vulpine  beggarly  Beelzebub  or  swollen  Mammon 
were  our  Supreme  Hieros  or  Holy,  this  would  be  a  Hierarchy  ! 
I  say,  if  you  want  Chaos  for  your  master,  adopt  this  ; — if  you 
don't,  I  beg  you  make  haste  to  adopt  some  other  ;  for  this  is 
the  broad  way  to  him  !  The  Eternal  Anarch,  with  his  old 
waggling  addlehead  full  of  mere  windy  rumour,  and  his  old 
insatiable  paunch  full  of  mere  hunger  and  indigestion  tragi- 
cally blended,  and  the  hissing  discord  of  all  the  Four  Ele- 
ments persuasively  pleading  to  him, — he,  set  to  choose,  would 
be  very  apt  to  vote  for  such  a  set  of  demigods  to  you. 


As  to  the  Statues,  I  know  they  are  but  symptoms  of  An- 
archy ;  it  is  not  they,  it  is  the  Anarch}^,  that  one  is  anxious  to 
see  abated.  Remedy  for  the  Statues  will  be  possible  ;  and,  as 
a  small  help,  undoubtedly  it  too,  in  the  mean  time,  is  desira- 
ble. Every  symptom  you  drive-in  being  a  curtailment  of  the 
malady,  by  all  means  cure  this  Statue-building  if  you  can  !  It 
will  be  one  folly  and  misery  less. 

Government  is  loath  to  interfere  with  the  pursuits  of  any 
class  of  citizens  ;  and  oftenest  looks  on  in  silence  while  follies 
are  committed.  But  Government  does  interfere  to  prevent  af- 
flictive accumulations  on  the  streets,  malodorous,  or  other  un- 


268 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


sanitary  public  procedures  of  an  extensive  sort ;  regulates 
gully-drains,  cesspools  ;  prohibits  the  piling-up  of  dungheaps  ; 
and  is  especially  strict  on  the  matter  of  indecent  exposures. 
Wherever  the  health  of  the  citizens  is  concerned,  much  more 
where  their  souls'  health,  and  as  it  were  their  very  salvation, 
is  concerned,  all  Governments  that  are  not  chimerical  make 
haste  to  interfere. 

Now  if  dungheaps  laid  on  the  streets,  afflictive  to  the  mere 
nostrils,  are  a  subject  for  interference,  what,  we  ask,  are  high 
columns,  raised  by  prurient  stupidity  and  public  delusion,  to 
blockheads  whose  memory  does  in  eternal  fact  deserve  the 
sinking  of  a  coalshaft  rather  ?  Give  to  every  one  what  he  de- 
serves, what  really  is  his :  in  all  scenes  and  situations  thou 
shalt  do  that, — or  in  very  truth  woe  will  betide  thee,  as  sure 
as  thou  art  living,  and  as  thy  Maker  lives.  Blockhead,  this 
big  Gambler  swollen  to  the  edge  of  bursting,  he  is  not '  great ' 
and  honourable  ;  he  is  huge  and  abominable  !  Thou  shalt 
honour  the  right  man,  and  not  honour  the  wrong,  under  pen- 
alties of  an  alarming  nature.  Honour  Barabbas  the  Bobber, 
thou  shalt  sell  old-clothes  through  the  cities  of  the  world  ; 
shalt  accumulate  sordid  moneys,  with  a  curse  on  every  coin  of 
them,  and  be  spit  upon  for  eighteen  hundred  years.  Baise 
statues  to  the  swollen  Gambler  as  if  he  were  great,  sacrifice 
oblations  to  the  King  of  Scrip, — unfortunate  mortals,  you  will 
dearly  pay  for  it  yet.  Quiet  as  Nature's  countinghouse  and 
scrip-ledgers  are,  no  faintest  item  is  ever  blotted  out  from 
them,  for  or  against  ;  and  to  the  last  doit  that  account  too 
will  have  to  be  settled.  Bigorous  as  Destiny  ; — she  is  Destiny. 
Chancery  or  Fetter-Lane  is  soft  to  her,  when  the  day  of  settle- 
ment comes.  With  her,  in  the  way  of  abatement,  of  oblivion, 
neither  gods  nor  man  prevail.  "Abatement?  That  is  not 
our  way  of  doing  business  ;  the  time  has  run  out,  the  debt  it 
appears  is  due."  Will  the  law  of  gravitation  '  abate '  for  you  ? 
Gravitation  acts  at  the  rate  of  sixteen  feet  per  second,  in  spite 
of  all  prayers.  Were  it  the  crash  of  a  Solar  System,  or  the 
fall  of  a  Yarmouth  Herring,  all  one  to  gravitation. 

Is  the  fall  of  a  stone  certain  ;  and  the  fruit  of  an  unwisdom 
doubtful  ?    You  unfortunate  beings  !    Have  you  forgotten  it; 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


269 


in  this  immense  improvement  of  machinery,  cheapening  of 
cotton,  and  general  astonishing  progress  of  the  species  lately  ? 
With  such  extension  of  journals,  human  cultures,  universities, 
periodic  and  other  literatures,  mechanics'  institutes,  reform  of 
prison-discipline,  abolition  of  capital  punishment,  enfranchise- 
ment by  ballot,  report  of  parliamentary  speeches,  and  singing 
for  the  million  ?  You  did  not  know  that  the  Universe  had 
laws  of  right  and  wrong  ;  you  fancied  the  Universe  was  an 
oblivious  greedy  blockhead,  like  one  of  yourselves  ;  attentive  to 
scrip  mainly  ;  and  willing,  where  there  was  no  practical  scrip, 
to  forget  and  forgive  ?  And  so,  amid  such  universal  blossom- 
ing-forth  of  useful  knowledges,  miraculous  to  the  thinking 
editor  everywhere, — the  soul  of  all  'knowledge,'  not  knowing 
which  a  man  is  dark  and  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  beaver, 
has  been  omitted  by  }tou  ?  You  have  omitted  it,  and  you 
should  have  included  it !  The  thinking  editor  never  missed 
it,  so  busy  wondering  and  worshipping  elsewhere  ;  but  it  is 
not  here. 

And  alas,  apart  from  editors,  are  there  not  men  appointed 
specially  to  keep  you  in  mind  of  it  ;  solemnly  set  apart  for 
that  object  thousands  of  years  ago?  Crabbe,  descanting  'on 
the  so-called  Christian  Clems,'  has  this  wild  passage  :  '  Le- 
gions of  them,  in  their  black  or  other  gowns,  I  still  meet  in 
every  country  ;  masquerading,  in  strange  costume  of  body, 
and  still  stranger  of  soul ;  mumming,  primming,  grimacing, 
— poor  devils,  shamming,  and  endeavouring  not  to  sham  :  that 
is  the  sad  fact.  Brave  men  many  of  them,  after  their  sort  ; 
and  in  a  position  which  we  may  admit  to  be  wonderful  and 
dreadful !  On  the  outside  of  their  heads  some  singular  head- 
gear, tulip-mitre,  felt  coalscuttle,  purple  hat ;  and  in  the  in- 
side,— I  must  say,  such  a  theory  of  God  Almighty's  Universe 
as  I,  for  my  share,  am  right  thankful  to  have  no  concern  with 
at  all !  I  think,  on  the  whole,  as  broken-winged,  self-stran- 
gled, monstrous  a  mass  of  incoherent  incredibilities,  as  ever 
dwelt  in  the  human  brain  before.  O  God,  giver  of  Light, 
hater  of  Darkness,  of  Hypocrisy  and  Cowardice,  how  long, 
how  long ! 

'  For  two  centuries  now  it  lasts.    The  men  whom  God  has 


270 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


made,  whole  nations  and  generations  of  them,  are  steeped  in 
Hypocrisy  from  their  birth  upwards  ;  taught  that  external 
varnish  is  the  chief  duty  of  man, — that  the  vice  which  is  the 
deepest  in  Gehenna  is  »the  virtue  highest  in  Heaven.  Out  of 
which,  do  you  ask  what  follows?  Look  round  on  a  world 
all  bristling  with  insurrectionary  pikes  ;  Kings  and  Papas  fly- 
ing like  detected  coiners  ;  and  in  their  stead  Icaria,  Red  Re- 
public,  new  religion  of  the  Anti- Virgin,  Literature  of  Despera- 
tion curiously  conjoined  with  Phallus- Worship,  too  clearly 
heralding  centuries  of  bottomless  Anarchy  :  hitherto  one  in 
the  million  looking  with  mournful  recognition  on  it,  silently 
with  sad  thoughts  too  unutterable  ;  and  to  help  in  healing  it 
not  one  anywhere  hitherto.' 

But  as  to  Statues,  I  really  think  the  Woods-and-Forests 
ought  to  interfere.  When  a  company  of  persons  have  deter- 
mined to  set-up  a  Brazen  Image,  there  decidedly  arises,  be- 
sides the  question  of  their  own  five-pound  subscriptions, 
which  men  of  spirit  and  money-capital  without  employment, 
and  with  the  prospect  of  seeing  their  names  in  the  News- 
papers at  the  cheap  price  of  five  pounds,  are  very  prompt 
with, — another  question,  not  nearly  so  easy  of  solution. 
Namely,  this  quite  preliminary  question  :  Will  it  permanently 
profit  mankind  to  have  such  a  Hero  as  this  of  yours  set-up 
for  their  admiration,  for  their  imitation  and  emulation ;  or 
will  it,  so  far  as  they  do  not  reject  and  with  success  disregard 
it  altogether,  unspeakably  tend  to  damage  and  disprofit  them  ? 
In  a  word,  does  this  Hero's  memory  deserve  a  high  column  ; 
are  you  sure  it  does  not  deserve  a  deep  coalshaft  rather? 
This  is  an  entirely  fundamental  question  !  Till  this  question 
be  answered  well  in  the  affirmative,  there  ought  to  be  a  total 
stop  of  progress  ;  the  misguided  citizens  ought  to  be  admon- 
ished, and  even  gently  constrained,  to  take  back  their  five- 
pound  notes  ;  to  desist  from  their  rash  deleterious  enter- 
prise, and  retire  to  their  affairs,  a  repentant  body  of  mis- 
guided citizens. 

But  farther  still,  and  supposing  the  first  question  perfectly 
disposed  of,  there  comes  a  second,  grave  too,  though  much 


HUDSON'S  STATUE. 


271 


less  peremptory :  Is  this  Statue  of  yours  a  worthy  commemo- 
ration of  a  sacred  man  ?  Is  it  so  excellent  in  point  of  Art 
that  we  can,  with  credit,  set  it  up  in  our  market-places  as  a 
respectable  approach  to  the  Ideal  ?  Or,  alas,  is  it  not  such  an 
amorphous  brazen  sooterkin,  bred  of  prurient  heat  and  dark- 
ness, as  falls,  if  well  seen  into,  far  below  the  Real  ?  The  Real, 
if  you  will  stand  by  it,  is  respectable.  The  coarsest  hob- 
nailed pair  of  shoes,  if  honestly  made  according  to  the  laws  of 
fact  and  leather,  are  not  ugly;  they  are  honest,  and  fit  fcr 
their  object ;  the  highest  eye  may  look  on  them  without  dis- 
pleasure, nay  with  a  kind  of  satisfaction.  This  rude  packing- 
case,  it  is  faithfully  made  ;  square  to  the  rule,  and  formed 
with  rough-and-ready  strength  against  injury  ; — fit  for  its  use  ; 
not  a  pretentious  hypocrisy,  but  a  modest  serviceable  fact  ; 
whoever  pleases  to  look  upon  it  will  find  the  image  of  a 
humble  manfulness  in  it,  and  will  pass  on  with  some  infini- 
tesimal impulse  to  thank  the  gods. 

But  this  your  'Ideal,'  my  misguided  fellow-citizens  ?  Good 
Heavens,  are  you  in  the  least  aware  what  damage,  in  the  very 
sources  of  their  existence,  men  get  from  Cockney  Sooterkins 
saluting  them  publicly  as  models  of  Beauty  ?  I  charitably 
feel  you  have  not  the  smallest  notion  of  it,  or  you  would  shriek 
at  the  proposal !  Can  you,  my  misguided  friends,  think  it 
humane  to  set-up,  in  its  present  uncomfortable  form,  this 
blotch  of  mis-molten  copper  and  zinc,  out  of  which  good  warm- 
ing-pans might  be  made  ?  That  all  men  should  see  this  ;  in- 
nocent young  creatures,  still  in  arms,  be  taught  to  think  this 
beautiful ; — and  perhaps  women  in  an  interesting  situation 
look  up  to  it  as  they  pass?  I  put  it  to  your  religious  feeling, 
to  your  principles  as  men  and  fathers  of  families  ! 

These  questions  the  Woods-and-Forests,  or  some  other 
Public  Tribunal  constituted  for  the  purpose,  really  ought  to 
ask,  in  a  deliberate  speaking  manner,  on  the  part  of  the 
speechless  suffering  Populations  :  it  is  the  preliminary  of  all 
useful  Statue-building.  Till  both  these  questions  are  well 
answered,  the  Woods-and-Forests  should  refuse  permission ; 
advise  the  misguided  citizens  to  go  home  and  repent.  Really, 
if  this  Statue-humour  go  on,  and  grow  as  it  has  lately  done, 


272 


LATTER  DA  Y  PAMPHLETS. 


there  will  be  such  a  Public-Statue  Board  requisite  ;  or  the 
Woods-and-Forests  will  have  to  interfere,  with  such  imperfect 
law  as  now  is. 

The  Woods-and-Forests,  or  if  not  they,  then  the  Commis- 
sioners of  Sewers,  Sanitary  Board,  Scavenger  Board,  Cleans- 
ing Committee,  or  whoever  holds  or  can  usurp  a  little  of  the 
aedile  authority, — cannot  some  of  them,  in  the  name  of  sense 
and  common  decency,  interfere  at  least  thus  far  ?  Namely, 
to  admonish  the  misguided  citizens,  subscribers  to  the  next 
Brazen  Monster,  or  sad  sepulchral  solecism,  the  emblem  of 
far  sadder  moral  ones  ;  and  exhort  them,  three  successive 
times,  to  make  warming-pans  of  it  and  repent ; — or  failing 
that,  finding  them  obstinate^  to  say  with  authority  :  "  Well 
then,  persist ;  set-up  your  Brazen  Calf,  ye  misguided  citizens, 
and  worship  it,  you,  since  you  will  and  can.  But  observe,  let 
it  be  done  in  secret :  not  in  public  ;  we  say,  in  secret,  at  your 
peril !  You  have  pleased  to  create  a  new  Monster  into  this 
world ;  but  to  make  him  patent  to  public  view,  we,  for  our 
part,  beg  not  to  please.  Observe,  therefore.  Build  a  high- 
enough  brick  case  or  joss-house  for  your  Brazen  Calf ;  with 
undiaphanous  walls,  and  lighted  by  sky-windows  only  :  put 
your  Monster  into  that,  and  keep  him  there.  Thither  go  at 
your  pleasure,  there  assemble  yourselves,  and  worship  your 
bellyful,  you  absurd  idolaters  ;  ruin  your  own  souls  only,  and 
leave  the  poor  Population  alone  ;  the  poor  speechless  uncon- 
scious Population,  whom  we  are  bound  to  protect,  and  will !  " 
To  this  extent,  I  think  the  Woods-and-Forests  might  reason- 
ably interfere. 

No.  VIII  JESUITISM. 

[1st  August  1850.] 

As  in  the  history  of  human  things,  which  needs  above  all  to 
abridge  itself,  it  happens  usually  that  the  chief  actors  in  great 
events  and  great  epochs  give  their  name  to  the  series,  and  are 
loosely  reputed  the  causers  and  authors  of  them  ;  as  a  Ger- 
man Reformation  is  called  of  Luther,  and  a  French  lieign  of 


JESUITISM. 


273 


Terror  passes  for  the  work  of  Robespierre,  and  from  the  JEneid 
and  earlier  this  has  been  the  wont :  so  it  may  be  said  these 
current,  and  now  happily  moribund,  times  of  ours  are  worthy 
to  be  called,  in  loose  language,  the  Age  of  Jesuitism, — an 
epoch  whose  Palinurus  is  the  wretched  mortal  known  among 
men  as  Ignatius  Loyola.  For  some  two  centuries  the  genius 
of  mankind  has  been  dominated  by  the  gospel  of  Ignatius, 
perhaps  the  strangest  and  certainly  among  the  fatalest  ever 
preached  hitherto  under  the  sun.  Some  acquaintance,  out  of 
Bartoli  and  others,  I  have  made  with  that  individual,  and  from 
old  years  have  studied  the  workings  of  him  ;  and  to  me  he 
seems  historically  definable,  he  more  than  another,  as  the 
poison-fountain  from  which  these  rivers  of  bitterness  that  now 
submerge  the  world  have  flowed. 

Counting  from  the  '  ever-blessed  Restoration,'  or  the  advent 
of  that  singular  new  Defender  of  the  Faith  called  Charles 
Second,  it  is  about  two  hundred  years  since  we  ourselves  com- 
menced that  bad  course  ;  and  deeply  detesting  the  name  of  St. 
Ignatius,  did  nevertheless  gradually  adopt  his  gospel  as  the 
real  revelation  of  God's  will,  and  the  solid  rule  of  living  in  this 
world  ;  rule  long  since  grown  perfectly  accredited,  complete 
in  all  its  parts,  and  reigning  supreme  among  us  in  all  spiritual 
and  social  matters  whatsoever.  The  singular  gospel,  or  rev- 
elation of  Gods  will !  That  to  please  the  supreme  Fountain 
of  Truth  your  readiest  method,  now  and  then,  was  to  j)ersist 
in  believing  what  your  whole  soul  found  to  be  doubtful  or  in- 
credible. That  poor  human  symbols  were  higher  than  the 
God  Almighty's  facts  they  symbolised  ;  that  formulas,  with  or 
without  the  facts  symbolised  by  them,  were  sacred  and  salu- 
tary ;  that  formulas,  well  persisted  in,  could  still  save  us  when 
the  facts  were  all  fled  !  A  new  revelation  to  mankind  ;  not 
heard  of  in  human  experience,  till  Ignatius  revealed  it  to  uss 
That,  in  substance,  was  the  contribution  of  Ignatius  to  the 
wellbeing  of  mankind.  Under  that  thrice-stygian  gospel  we 
have  all  of  us,  Papist  and  at  length  Protestant  too,  this  long 
while  sat ;  a  '  doctrine  of  devils,'  I  do  think,  if  there  ever  was 
one  ; — and  are  now,  ever  since  1789,  with  endless  misery  and 
astonishment,  confusedly  awakening  out  of  the  same,  uncer- 
18 


274 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


tain  whether  towards  swift  agony  of  social  death,  or  towards 
slow  martyrdom  of  recovery  into  spiritual  and  social  life. 

Not  that  poor  Loyola  did  all  the  feat  himself, — any  more 
than  Luther,  Kobespierre,  and  other  such  did  in  the  parallel 
cases.  By  no  means.  Not  in  his  poor  person  shall  the 
wretched  Loyola  bear  the  guilt  of  poisoning  the  world  :  the 
world  was,  as  it  were,  in  quest  of  poison  ;  in  the  sure  course 
of  being  poisoned  ;  and  would  have  got  it  done  by  some  one  : 
Loyola  is  the  historical  symbol  to  us  of  its  being  done.  The 
most  conspicuous  and  ostentatious  of  the  world's  poisoners  ; 
who,  solemnly  consecrating  all  the  rest  in  the  name  of  holiness 
or  spiritual  Health,  has  got  the  work  of  poisoning  to  go  on 
with  never-imagined  completeness  and  acceleration  in  all  quar- 
ters ;  and  is  worthy  to  have  it  called  after  him  a  Jesuitism,  and 
be  blamed  by  men  (how  judged  by  God,  we  know  not)  for  do- 
ing it.  That  it  is  done,  there  is  the  sad  fact  for  us  ;  which 
infinitely  concerns  every  living  soul  of  us  ;  what  Ignatius  got 
or  is  to  get  for  doing  it, — this  shall  not  concern  us  at  all. 

And  so,  before  dismissing  busy  English  readers  to  their  au- 
tumnal grouse-shooting, — the  ramadhan,  sacred  fast,  or  month 
of  meditative  solitude  and  devout  prayer,  now  in  use  among 
the  English, — I  have  one  sad  thing  to  do  :  lead  them  a  little 
to  the  survey  of  Ignatius  and  our  universal  Jesuitism ;  and 
ask  them,  in  Heaven's  name,  if  they  will  answer  such  a  ques- 
tion, What  they  think  of  it,  and  of  their  share  in  it  ?  For 
this  is  the  central  and  parent  phenomenon  ;  the  great  Tarta- 
rean Deep,  this,  whence  all  our  miseries,  fatuities,  futilities 
spring  ;  the  accursed  Hela's  realm,  tenanted  by  foul  creatures, 
ministers  of  Death  Eternal,  out  of  which  poor  mortals,  each 
for  himself,  are  called  to  escape  if  they  can  !  Who  is  there 
tiiat  can  escape  ;  that  can  become  alive  to  the  terrible  neces- 
sity of  escaping  ?  By  way  of  finish  to  this  offensive  and 
alarming  set  of  Pamphlets,  I  have  still  one  crowning  offence 
and  alarm  to  try  if  I  can  give.  The  message,  namely,  That 
under  all  those  Cannibal  Connaughts,  Distressed  Needle- 
women, and  other  woes  nigh  grown  intolerable,  there  lies  a 
still  deeper  Infinite  of  woe  and  guilt,  chargeable  on  every  one 


JESUITISM. 


275 


of  us  ;  and  that  till  this  abate,  essentially  those  never  will  or 
can. 

That  our  English  solitaries,  any  noticeable  number  of  them, 
in  their  grouse  ramadhan,  or  elsewhere,  will  accept  the  mes- 
sage, and  see  this  thing  for  my  poor  showing,  is  more  than  I 
expect.  Not  willingly  or  joyfully  do  men  become  conscious 
that  they  are  afloat,  they  and  their  affairs,  upon  the  Pool  of 
Erebus,  now  nameless  in  polite  speech  ;  and  that  all  their 
miseries,  social  and  private,  are  fountains  springing  out  of 
that,  and  like  to  spring  perennially  with  ever  more  copious- 
ness, till  once  you  get  away  from  that !  And  yet  who 

knows?  Here  and  there  a  thinking  English  soul,  the  reflec- 
tion, the  devotion,  not  quite  deafened  out  of  him  by  perpetual 
noise  and  babble  ;  such  a  soul, — left  silent  in  the  solitude  of 
some  Highland  corry,  waiting  perhaps  till  the  gillies  drive  his 
deer  up  to  him, — may  catch  a  glimpse  of  it,  take  a  thought  of 
it ;  may  prosecute  his  thought ;  fling  down,  with  terror,  his 
Joe-Manton  and  percussion-caps,  and  fly  to  a  better  kind  of 
ramadhan,  towards  another  kind  of  life  !  Sure  enough,  if  one 
in  the  thousand  see  at  all,  in  this  sad  matter,  what  I  see  and 
have  long  seen  in  it,  his  life  either  suddenly  or  gradually  will 
alter  in  several  particulars ;  and  his  sorrow,  apprehension  and 
amazement  will  probably  grow  upon  him,  the  longer  he  con- 
siders this  affair  ;  and  his  life,  I  think,  will  alter  ever  farther ; 
— and  he,  this  one  in  a  thousand,  will  forgive  me,  and  be 
thankful  to  the  Heavens  and  me,  while  he  continues  in  this 
world  or  in  any  world  ! — 

The  Spiritual,  it  is  still  often  said,  but  it  is  not  now  suf- 
ficiently considered,  is  the  parent  and  first-cause  of  the  Practi- 
cal. The  Spiritual  everywhere  originates  the  Practical,  models 
it,  makes  it :  so  that  the  saddest  external  condition  of  affairs, 
among  men,  is  but  evidence  of  a  still  sadder  internal  one. 
For  as  thought  is  the  life-fountain  and  motive-soul  of  action, 
so,  in  all  regions  of  this  human  world,  whatever  outward 
thing  offers  itself  to  the  eye,  is  merely  the  garment  or  body 
of  a  thing  which  already  existed  invisibly  within  ;  which,  striv- 
ing to  give  itself  expression,  has  found,  in  the  given  circum- 


276 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


stances,  that  it  could  and  would  express  itself — so.  This  is 
everywhere  true  ;  and  in  these  times  when  men's  attention  is 
directed  outward  rather,  this  deserves  far  more  attention  than 
it  will  receive. 

Do  you  ask  why  misery  abounds  among  us  ?  I  bid  you 
look  into  the  notion  we  have  formed  for  ourselves  of  this  Uni- 
verse, and  of  our  duties  and  destinies  there.  If  it  is  a  true 
notion,  we  shall  strenuously  reduce  it  to  practice, — for  who 
dare  or  can  contradict  his  faith,  whatever  it  may  be,  in  the 
Eternal  Fact  that  is  around  him  ? — and  thereby  blessings  and 
success  will  attend  us  in  said  Universe,  or  Eternal  Fact  we 
live  amidst :  of  that  surely  there  is  no  doubt.  All  revelations 
and  intimations,  heavenly  and  earthly,  assure  us  of  that  ;  only 
a  Philosophy  of  Bedlam  could  throw  a  doubt  on  that !  Bless- 
ings and  success,  most  surely,  if  our  notion  of  this  Universe, 
and  our  battle  in  it  be  a  true  one  ;  not  curses  and  futilities, 
except  it  be  not  true.  For  battle,  in  any  case,  I  think  we 
shall  not  want ;  harsh  wounds,  and  the  heat  of  the  day,  we 
shall  have  to  stand  :  but  it  will  be  a  noble  godlike  and  hu- 
man battle,  not  an  ignoble  devil-like  and  brutal  one  ;  and  our 
wounds,  and  sore  toils  (what  we  in  our  impatience  call  '  mis- 
eries '),  will  themselves  be  blessed  to  us. 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  were  a  false  notion  which 
we  believed  ;  alas,  if  it  were  even  a  false  notion  which  we 
only  pretended  to  believe  ?  What  battle  can  there  be,  in  that 
latter  fatal  case  !  Our  faith,  or  notion  of  this  Universe,  is  not 
false  only,  but  it  is  the  father  of  falsity  ;  a  thing  that  destroys 
itself,  and  is  equivalent  to  the  death  of  all  notion,  all  belief  or 
motive  to  action,  except  what  the  appetites  and  the  astucities 
may  yield.  We  have  then  the  thrice-baleful  Universe  of  Cant, 
prophesied  for  these  Latter  Days  ;  and  no  '  battle,'  but  a 
kind  of  bigger  Donnybrook  one,  is  possible  for  hapless  mor- 
tala  till  that  alter.  Faith,  Fact,  Performance,  in  all  high  and 
gradually  in  all  low  departments,  go  about  their  business  ; 
Inanity  well  tailored  and  upholstered,  mild-spoken  Ambiguity, 
decorous  Hypocrisy  which  is  astonished  you  should  think  it 
hypocritical,  taking  their  room  and  drawing  their  wages  :  from 
zenith  to  nadir,  you  have  Cant,  Cant, — a  Universe  of  Incredi- 


JESUITISM. 


277 


bilities  which  are  not  even  credited,  which  each  man  at  best 
only  tries  to  persuade  himself  that  he  credits.  Do  you  ex- 
pect a  divine  battle,  with  noble  victories,  out  of  this?  I 
expect  a  Hudson's  Statue  from  it,  brisk  trade  in  scrip,  with 
Distressed  Needle-women,  Cannibal  Connaughts,  and  other 
the  like  phenomena,  such  as  we  now  everywhere  see  ! 

Indisputably  enough,  what  notion  each  forms  of  the  Uni- 
verse is  the  all-regulating  fact  with  regard  to  him.  The  Uni- 
verse makes  no  immediate  objection  to  be  conceived  in  any 
way  ;  pictures  itself  as  plainly  in  the  seeing  faculty  of  New- 
ton's Dog  Diamond,  as  of  Newton  ;  and  yields  to  each  a  result 
accurately  corresponding.  To  the  Dog  Diamond  dogs'-meat, 
with  its  adjuncts,  better  or  worse  ;  to  Newton's  discovery  of 
the  System  of  the  Stars. — Not  the  Universe's  affair  at  all ;  but 
the  seeing  party's  affair  very  much,  for  the  results  to  each  cor- 
respond, with  exact  proportion,  to  his  notion  of  it. 

The  saddest  condition  of  human  affairs,  what  ancient 
Prophets  denounced  as  '  the  Throne  of  Iniquity,'  where  men 
'  decree  injustice  by  a  law : '  all  this,  with  its  thousandfold 
outer  miseries,  is  still  but  a  symptom  ;  all  this  points  to  a  far 
sadder  disease  which  lies  invisible  within  !  In  new  dialect, 
whatever  modified  interpretation  we  may  put  upon  it,  the 
same  must  be  said  as  in  old  :  '  God's  judgments  are  abroad  in 
the  world  ; '  and  it  would  much  behove  many  of  us  to  know 
well  that  the  essential  fact  lies  there  and  not  elsewhere.  If 
we  '  sin  against  God,'  it  is  most  certain  '  God's  judgments ' 
will  overtake  us  ;  and  whether  we  recognise  them  as  God's 
message  like  men,  or  merely  rage  and  writhe  under  them  like 
dogs,  and  in  our  blind  agony,  each  imputing  it  to  his  neigh- 
bour, tear  one  another  in  pieces  under  them,  it  is  certain  they 
will  continue  upon  us,  till  we  either  cease  '  sinning,1  or  are  all 
torn  in  pieces  and  annihilated. 

Wide  spread  suffering,  mutiny  and  delirium  ;  the  hot  rage 
of  sansculottic  Insurrections,  the  cold  rage  of  resuscitated 
Tyrannies  ;  the  brutal  degradation  of  the  millions,  the  pam- 
pered frivolity  of  the  units  ;  that  awful  unheeded  spectacle, 
'the  Throne  of  Iniquity  decreeing  injustice  by  a  law,'  as  the 
just  eye  can  see  it  everywhere  doing : — certainly  something 


278 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


must  be  wrong  in  the  inner  man  of  the  world,  since  its  outer 
man  is  so  terribly  out  of  square  !  The  deliverer  of  the  world, 
therefore,  were  not  he  who  headed  sansculottie  insurrections 
never  so  successful,  but  he  who  pointed  out  to  the  world  what 
nightmares  were  resting  over  its  soul.  Ignatius  Loyola,  and 
the  innumerable  company,  Papist,  Protestant,  Sham-christian, 
Anti-christian,  that  have  believed  his  revelation  ;  universal 
prevalence,  from  pole  to  pole,  of  such  a  '  doctrine  of  devils ;' 
reverent  or  quasi-reverent  faith  in  the  dead  human  formulas, 
and  somnolent  contempt  of  the  divine  ever-living  facts,  such 
as  reigns  now,  consecrated  and  supreme,  in  all  common- 
wealths and  countries,  and  hearts  of  men  ;  the  Human  Spe- 
cies, as  it  were,  unconsciously  or  consciously,  gone  all  to  one 
Sodality  of  Jesuitism  :  who  will  deliver  us  from  the  body  of 
this  death  !  It  is  in  truth  like  death-in-life  ;  a  living-criminal 
(as  in  the  old  Roman  days)  with  a  corpse  lashed  fast  to  him. 
What  wretch  could  have  deserved  such  a  doom  ? 

As  to  this  Ignatius,  I  am  aware  he  is  admired,  and  even 
transcend ently  admired,  or  what  we  called  worshipped,  by 
multitudes  of  human  creatures,  who  to  this  day  expect,  or  en- 
deavour to  expect,  some  kind  of  salvation  from  him  ; — whom 
it  is  so  painful  to  enrage  against  me,  if  I  could  avoid  it !  Un- 
doubtedly Ignatius,  centuries  ago,  gave  satisfaction  to  the 
Devil's  Advocate,  the  Pope  and  other  parties  interested  ;  was 
canonised,  named  Saint,  and  raised  duly  into  Heaven  officially 
so-called  ;  whereupon,  with  many,  he  passes,  ever  since,  for  a 
kind  of  God,  or  person  who  has  much  influence  with  the 
gods. — Alas,  the  admiration,  and  transcendent  admiration,  of 
mankind,  goes  a  strange  road  in  these  times  !  Hudson  too 
had  his  canonisation  :  and  by  Vox  Populi,  if  not  by  Pope  and 
Devil's  Advocate,  was  raised  to  a  kind  of  brass  Olympus  by 
mankind  ;  and  rode  there  for  a  year  or  two  ; — though  he  is 
already  gone  to  warming-pans  again.  A  poor  man,  in  our 
day,  has  many  gods  foisted  on  him  ;  and  big  voices  bid  him, 
«  Worship,  or  be  !  "  in  a  menacing  and  confusing  man- 
ner. What  shall  he  do  ?  By  far  the  greater  part  of  said  gods, 
current  in  the  public,  whether  canonised  by  Pope  or  Populus, 


JESUITISM. 


270 


are  mere  dumb  Apises  and  beatified  Prize-oxen  ; — nay  some 
of  them,  who  have  articulate  facult}7,  are  devils  instead  of 
gods.  A  poor  man  that  would  save  his  soul  alive  is  reduced  to 
the  sad  necessity  of  sharply  trying  his  gods  whether  they  are 
divine  or  not ;  which  is  a  terrible  pass  for  mankind,  and  lays 
an  awful  problem  upon  each  man.  The  man  must  do  it,  how- 
ever. At  his  own  peril  he  will  have  to  do  this  problem  too, 
which  is  one  of  the  awfulest ;  and  his  neighbours,  all  but  a 
most  select  portion  of  them,  portion  generally  not  clad  in  offi- 
cial tiaras,  can  be  of  next  to  no  help  to  him  in  it,  nay  rather 
will  infinitely  hinder  him  in  it,  as  matters  go.  If  Ignatius, 
worshipped  by  millions  as  a  kind  of  god,  is,  in  eternal  fact,  a 
kind  of  devil,  or  enemy  of  whatsoever  is  godlike  in  man's  ex- 
istence, surely  it  is  pressingly  expedient  that  men  were  made 
aware  of  it  ;  that  men,  with  whatever  earnestness  is  yet  in 
them,  laid  it  awfully  to  heart ! 

jf  rim  friend  with  the  black  serge  gown,  with  the  rosary, 
scapulary,  and  I  know  not  what  other  spiritual  block-and-tackle, 
— scowl  not  on  me.  If  in  thy  poor  heart,  under  its  rosaries, 
there  dwell  any  human  piety,  awestruck  reverence  towards 
the  Supreme  Maker,  devout  compassion  towards  this  poor 
Earth  and  her  sons, — scowl  not  anathema  on  me,  listen  to  me  ; 
for  I  swear  thou  art  my  brother,  in  spite  of  rosaries  and  scapu- 
laries  ;  and  I  recognise  thee,  though  thou  canst  not  me  ;  and 
with  love  and  pity  know  thee  for  a  brother,  though  enchanted 
into  the  condition  of  a  spiritual  mummy.  Hapless  creature, 
curse  me  not ;  listen  to  me,  and  consider  ; — perhaps  even  thou 
wilt  escape  from  mummyhood,  and  become  once  more  a  living- 
soul  ! 

Of  Ignatius,  then,  I  must  take  leave  to  say,  there  can  this 
be  recorded,  that  probably  he  has  done  more  mischief  in  the 
Earth  than  any  man  born  since.  A  scandalous  mortal,  O 
brethren  of  mankind  who  live  by  truth  and  not  by  falsity,  I 
must  call  this  man.  Altogether, — here  where  I  stand,  looking 
on  millions  of  poor  pious  brothers  reduced  to  spiritual  mummy- 
hood,  who  curse  me  because  I  try  to  speak  the  truth  to  them, 
and  on  a  whole  world  canting  and  grimacing  from  birth  to 


2S0 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


death,  and  finding  in  their  life  two  serious  indubitabilities, 
Cookery  and  Scrip, — how,  if  he  is  the  representative  and  chief 
fountain  of  all  this,  can  I  call  him  other  than  the  superlative 
of  scandals  ?  A  bad  man,  I  think  ;  not  good  by  nature  ;  and 
by  destiny  swollen  into  a  very  Ahriman  of  badness.  Not  good 
by  nature,  I  perceive.  A  man  born  greedy  ;  whose  greatness 
in  the  beginning,  and  even  in  the  end  if  we  will  look  well,  is 
indicated  chiefly  by  the  depth  of  his  appetite  :  not  the  recom- 
mendable  kind  of  man  !  A  man  full  of  prurient  elements  from 
the  first ;  which  at  the  last,  through  his  long  course,  have  de*. 
veloped  themselves  over  the  family  of  mankind  into  an  expres- 
sion altogether  tremendous. 

A  young  Spanish  soldier  and  hidalgo  with  hot  Biscayan 
blood,  distinguished,  as  I  understand,  by  his  fierce  appetites 
chiefly,  by  his  audacities  and  sensualities,  and  loud  unreason- 
able decision,  That  this  Universe,  in  spite  of  rumours  to  the 
contrary,  was  a  Cookery-shop  and  Bordel,  wherein  garlic,,  ja- 
maica-pepper,  unfortunate-females  and  other  spicery  and  gar- 
j  nishing  awaited  the  bold  human  appetite,  and  the  rest  of  it  was 
mere  rumour  and  moonshine  :  with  this  life-theory  and  prac- 
tice had  Ignatius  lived  some  thirty  years,  a  hot  human  Papin's- 
digester  and  little  other  ;  when,  on  the  walls  of  Pampeluna, 
the  destined  cannon-shot  shattered  both  his  legs, — leaving  his 
head,  hitting  only  his  legs,  so  the  Destinies  would  have  it, — 
and  he  fell  at  once  totally  prostrate,  a  wrecked  Papin's- 
digester  ;  lay  many  weeks  horizontal,  and  had  in  that  tedious 
posture  to  commence  a  new  series  of  reflections.  He  began  to 
perceive  now  that  ' the  rest  of  it '  was  not  mere  rumour  and 
moonshine  ;  that  the  rest  was,  in  fact,  the  whole  secret  of  the 
matter.  That  the  Cookery-shop  and  Bordel  was  a  magical 
delusion,  a  sleight-of-hand  of  Satan,  to  lead  Ignatius  down,  by 
garlic  and  finer  temporal  spiceries,  to  eternal  Hell ; — and  that 
in  short  he,  Ignatius,  had  lived  hitherto  as  a  degraded  fero- 
cious Human  Pig,  one  of  the  most  perfect  scoundrels  ;  and 
was,  at  that  date,  no  other  than  a  blot  on  Creation,  and  a  scan- 
dal to  mankind. 

With  which  set  of  reflections  who  could  quarrel  ?    The  re- 
flections were  true,  were  salutary ;  nay  there  was  something 


JESUITISM. 


281 


of  sacred  in  tliem, — as  in  the  repentance  of  man,  in  the  dis- 
covery by  erring  man  that  wrong  is  not  right,  that  wrong 
differs  from  right  as  deep  Hell  from  high  Heaven,  there  ever 
is.  Ignatius's  soul  was  in  convulsions,  in  agonies  of  new  birth  ; 
for  which  I  honour  Ignatius.  Human  sincerity  could  not  but 
have  told  him  :  "  Yes,  in  several  respects,  thou  art  a  detestable 
Human  Pig,  and  disgrace  to  the  family  of  man  ;  for  which  it 
behoves  thee  to  be  in  nameless  remorse,  till  thy  life  either 
mend  or  end.  Consider,  there  as  thou  liest  with  thy  two  legs 
smashed,  the  peccant  element  that  is  in  thee  ;  discover  it,  rigor- 
ously tear  it  out ;  reflect  what  farther  thou  wilt  do.  A  life  yet 
remains  ;  to  be  led,  clearly,  in  some  new  manner  :  how  wilt 
thou  lead  it  ?  Sit  silent  for  the  rest  of  thy  days  ?  In  some 
most  modest  seclusion,  hide  thyself  from  a  humankind  which 
has  been  dishonoured  by  thee  ?  Thy  sin  being  pruriency  of 
appetite,  give  that  at  least  no  farther  scope  under  any  old  or 
new  form  ?  " 

I  admit,  the  question  was  not  easy.  Think,  in  this  his 
wrecked  horizontal  position,  what  could  or  should  the  poor 
individual  called  Inigo,  Ignatius,  or  whatever  the  first  name 
of  him  was,  have  done  ?  Truly  for  Ignatius  the  question  was 
very  complicated.  But,  had  he  asked  from  Nature  and  the 
Eternal  Oracles  a  remedy  for  wrecked  sensualism,  here  surely 
was  one  thing  that  would  have  suggested  itself  :  To  annihilate 
his  pruriency.  To  cower,  silent  and  ashamed,  into  some  dim 
corner  ;  and  resolve  to  make  henceforth  as  little  noise  as  pos- 
sible. That  would  have  been  modest,  salutary ;  that  might 
have  led  to  many  other  virtues,  and  gradually  to  all.  That,  I 
think,  is  what  the  small  still  voices  would  have  told  Igna* 
tius,  could  he  have  heard  them  amid  the  loud  bullyings 
and  liturgyings ;  but  he  couldn't,  perhaps  he  never  tried ; 
— and  that,  accordingly,  was  not  what  Ignatius  resolved 
upon. 

In  fact,  Christian  doctrine,  backed  by  all  the  human  wisdom 
I  could  ever  hear  of,  inclines  me  to  think  that  Ignatius,  had 
he  been  a  good  and  brave  man,  should  have  consented,  at  this 
point,  to  be  damned, — as  was  clear  to  him  that  he  deserved  to 
be.  Here  would  have  been  a  healing  solace  to  his  conscience  ; 


282 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


one  transcendent  act  of  virtue  which  it  still  lay  with  him,  the 
worst  of  sinners,  to  do.  "  To  die  forever,  as  I  have  deserved  ; 
let  Eternal  Justice  triumph  so,  by  means  of  me  and  my  foul 
scandals,  since  otherwise  it  may  not ! "  Selbsttodtung,  Anni* 
hilation  of  Self,  justly  reckoned  the  beginning  of  all  virtue : 
here  is  the  highest  form  of  it,  still  possible  to  the  lowest  man. 
The  voice  of  Nature  this,  to  a  repentant  outcast  sinner  turn- 
ing again  towards  the  realms  of  manhood  ; — and  I  understand 
it  is  the  precept  of  all  right  Christianity  too.  But  no,  Igna- 
tius could  not,  in  his  lowest  abasement,  consent  to  have  jus- 
tice done  on  him,  not  on  him,  ah  no  ; — and  there  lay  his  crime 
and  his  misfortune,  which  has  brought  such  penalty  on  him 
and  us. 

The  truth  is,  it  was  not  of  Eternal  Nature  and  her  Oracles 
that  Ignatius  inquired,  poor  man  ;  it  was  of  Temporary  Art 
and  hers,  and  these  sang  not  of  self-annihilation,  or  Ignatius 
would  not  hear  that  part  of  their  song.  Not  so  did  Ignatius 
read  the  omens.  "  My  pruriency  being  terribly  forbidden  on 
one  side,  let  it,"  thought  Ignatius,  deeply  unconscious  of  such 
a  thought,  "  have  terrible  course  on  another.  Garlic- cookery 
and  suchlike  excitations  are  accursed  to  me  forever ;  but  can- 
not I  achieve  something  that  shall  still  assert  my  Ego  I  in  a 
highly  gratifying  manner  ?  "  Alas,  human  sincerity,  hard  as 
his  scourging  had  been,  was  not  quite  attainable  by  him.  In 
his  frantic  just  agonies,  he  flung  himself  before  the  shrine  of 
Virgin  Marys,  Saints  of  the  Romish  Calendar,  three-hatted 
Holy  Fathers,  and  uncertain  Thaumaturgic  Entities  ;  praying 
that  he  might  be  healed  by  miracle,  not  by  course  of  nature  ; 
and  that,  for  one  most  fatal  item,  his  pruriency  of  appetite 
might,  under  new  inverse  forms, — continue  with  him.  Which 
prayer,  we  may  say,  was  granted. 

In  the  depths  of  his  despair,  all  Nature  glooming  veritable 
reprobation  on  him,  and  Eternal  Justice  whispering,  "Accept 
what  thou  hast  merited,"  there  rose  this  altogether  turbid 
semi-artificial  glare  of  hope  upon  Ignatius,  "  The  Virgin  will 
save  me,  the  Virgin  has  saved  me  :  "—Well  and  good,  I  say  ; 
then  be  quiet,  and  let  us  see  some  temperance  and  modesty  in 
you.    Far  otherwise  did  Ignatius  resolve  :  temperance  and 


JESUITISM. 


283 


true  modesty  were  not  among  the  gifts  of  this  precious  indi- 
vidual the  Virgin  had  been  at  the  pains  to  save.  Many  plans 
Ignatius  tried  to  make  his  Ego  I  still  available  on  Earth,  and 
still  keep  Heaven  open  for  him.  His  pilgrim ings  and  battlings, 
his  silent  sufferings  and  wrestlings  for  that  object,  are  enor- 
mous, and  reach  the  highest  pitch  of  the  prurient-heroic.  At 
length,  after  various  failures  and  unsatisfactory  half-successes, 
it  struck  him:  "Has  not  there  lately  been  a  sort  of  revolt 
against  the  Virgin,  and  the  Holy  Father  who  takes  care  of  her  ? 
Certain  infernal  Heresiarchs  in  Germany  and  elsewhere,  I  am 
told,  have  risen  up  against  the  Holy  Father,  arguing  with  ter- 
rible plausibility  that  he  is  an  Unholy  Phantasm  :  he  ;— and  if 
so,  what  am  I  and  my  outlooks  !  A  new  light,  presumably  of 
Hell,  has  risen  to  that  effect ;  which  new  light — why  cannot  I 
vow  here,  and  consecrate  myself,  to  battle  against,  and  with 
my  whole  strength  endeavour  to  extinguish  ?  "  That  was  the 
task  Ignatius  fixed  upon  as  his ;  and  at  that  he  has  been 
busy,  he  and  an  immense  and  ever-increasing  sodality  of  mor- 
tals, these  three  hundred  years  ;  and,  through  various  fort- 
une, they  have  brought  it  thus  far.  Truly  to  one  of  the  most 
singular  predicaments  the  affairs  of  mankind  ever  stood  in 
before. 

If  the  new  light  is  of  Hell,  O  Ignatius,  right :  but  if  of 
Heaven,  there  is  not,  that  I  know  of,  any  equally  damnable  sin 
as  thine  !  No  :  thy  late  Pighood  itself  is  trivial  in  compari- 
son. Frantic  mortal,  wilt  thou,  at  the  bidding  of  any  Papa, 
war  against  Almighty  God  ?  Is  there  no  '  inspiration,'  then, 
but  an  ancient  Jewish,  Greekish,  Romish  one,  with  big  reve- 
nues, loud  liturgies  and  red  stockings  ?  The  Pope  is  old  ;  but 
Eternity,  thou  shalt  observe,  is  older.  High-treason  against 
all  the  Universe  is  dangerous  to  do.  Quench  not  among  us, 
I  advise  thee,  the  monitions  of  that  thrice-sacred  gospel,  holier 
than  all  gospels,  which  dwells  in  each  man  direct  from  the 
Maker  of  him  !  Frightfully  will  it  be  avenged  on  thee,  and 
on  all  that  follow  thee  ;  to  the  sixth  generation  and  farther, 
all  men  shall  lie  under  this  gigantic  Upas-tree  thou  hast  been 
planting  ;  terribly  will  the  gods  avenge  it  on  thee,  and  on  all 
thy  Father  Adam's  house  ! 


284 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


Ignatius's  black  militia,  armed  with  this  precious  message 
of  salvation,  have  now  been  campaigning  over  all  the  world, 
for  about  three  hundred  years  ;  and  openly  or  secretly  have 
done  a  mighty  work  over  all  the  world.  Who  can  count  what 
a  work !  Where  you  meet  a  man  believing  in  the  salutary  na- 
ture of  falsehoods,  or  the  divine  authority  of  things  doubtful, 
and  fancying  that  to  serve  the  Good  Cause  he  must  call  the 
Devil  to  his  aid,  there  is  a  follower  of  Unsaint  Ignatius  ;  not 
till  the  last  of  these  men  has  vanished  from  the  Earth  will  our 
account  with  Ignatius  be  quite  settled,  and  his  black  militia 
have  got  their  mittimus  to  Chaos  again.  They  have  given  a 
new  substantive  to  modern  languages.  The  word  '  Jesuitism ' 
now,  in  all  countries,  expresses  an  idea  for  which  there  was  in 
Nature  no  prototype  before.  Not  till  these  late  centuries  had 
the  human  soul  generated  that  abomination,  or  needed  to 
name  it.  Truly  they  have  achieved,  great  things  in  the  world  ; 
and  a  general  result  which  we  may  call  stupendous.  Not  vic- 
tory for  Ignatius  and  the  black  militia, — no,  till  the  Universe 
itself  become  a  cunningly  devised  Fable,  and  God  the  Maker 
abdicate  in  favour  of  Beelzebub,  I  do  not  see  how  '  victory  ' 
can  fall  on  that  side  !  But  they  have  done  such  deadly  exe- 
cution on  the  general  soul  of  man ;  and  have  wrought  such 
havoc  on  the  terrestrial  and  supernal  interests  of  this  world, 
as  insure  to  Jesuitism  a  long  memory  in  human  annals. 

How  many  three-hatted  Papas,  and  scandalous  Consecrated 
Phantasms,  cleric  and  laic,  convicted  or  not  yet  suspected  to 
be  Phantasms  and  servants  of  the  Devil  and  not  of  God,  does 
it  still  retain  in  existence  in  all  corners  of  this  afflicted  world  ! 
Germany  had  its  War  of  Thirty  Years,  among  other  wars,  on 
this  subject ;  and  had  there  not  been  elsewhere  a  nobler  loy- 
alty to  God's  Cause  than  was  to  be  found  in  Germany  at  that 
date,  Ignatius  with  his  rosaries  and  gibbet-ropes,  with  his 
honey-mouthed  Fathers  Lammerlein  in  black  serge,  and  heavy- 
fisted  Fathers  Wallenstein  in  chain  armour,  must  have  carried 
it ;  and  that  alarming  Lutheran  new-light  would  have  been 
got  extinguished  again.  The  Continent  once  well  quenched 
out,  it  was  calculated  England  might  soon  be  made  to  follow, 
and  then  the  whole  world  were  blessed  with  orthodoxy.  So 


JESUITISM. 


285 


it  had  been  computed.  But  Gustavus,  a  man  prepared  to  die 
if  needful,  Gustavus  with  his  Swedes  appeared  upon  the  scene  ; 
nay  shortly  Oliver  Cromwell  with  his.  Puritans  appeared  upon 
it ;  and  the  computation  quite  broke  down.  Beyond  seas  and 
within  seas,  the  Wallensteins  and  Lammerleins,  the  Hyacinths 
and  Andreas  Habernfelds,  the  Lauds  and  Charleses, — in  fine, 
Ignatius  and  all  that  held  of  him, — had  to  cower  into  their 
holes  again,  and  try  it  by  new  methods.  Many  were  their 
methods,  their  fortune  various  ;  and  ever  and  anon,  to  the 
hope  or  the  terror  of  this  and  the  other  man  of  weak  judgment, 
it  has  seemed  that  victory  was  just  about  to  crown  Ignatius. 
True,  too  true,  the  execution  done  upon  the  soul  of  mankind 
has  been  enormous  and  tremendous  :  but  victory  to  Ignatius 
there  has  been  none, — and  will  and  can  be  none. 

Nay  at  last,  ever  since  1789  and  '93,  the  figure  of  the  quar- 
rel has  much  altered  ;  and  the  hope  for  Ignatius  (except  to 
here  and  there  a  man  of  weak  judgment)  has  become  a  flat 
impossibilit}'.  For  Luther  and  Protestantism  Proper  having, 
so  to  speak,  withdrawn  from  the  battle-field,  as  entities  whose 
work  was  done,  there  then  appeared  on  it  Jean  Jacques  and 
French  Sansculottism  ;  to  which  all  creatures  have  gradually 
joined  themselves.  Whereby  now  we  have  Protestantism  Im- 
proper,— a  Protestantism  universal  and  illimitable  on  the  part 
of  all  men  ;  the  whole  world  risen  into  anarchic  mutiny,  with 
pike  and  paving-stone  ;  swearing  by  Heaven  above  and  also 
by  Hell  beneath,  by  the  Eternal  Yea  and  the  Eternal  No,  that 
Ignatius  and  Imposture  shall  not  rule  them  any  more,  neither 
in  soul  nor  in  body  nor  in  breeches-pocket  any  more  ;  but 
that  they  will  go  unruled  rather, — as  they  hope  it  will  be  pos- 
sible for  them  to  do.  This  is  Ignatius's  '  destruction  '  of  Prot- 
estantism :  he  has  destroyed  it  into  Sansculottism,  such  a 
form  of  all-embracing  Protestantism  as  was  never  dreamt  ox 
by  the  human  soul  before.  So  that  now,  at  last,  there  is  hop  3 
of  final  death  and  rest  to  Ignatius  and  his  labours.  Ignatius, 
I  perceive,  is  now  sure  to  die,  and  be  abolished  before  long ;  nay 
is  already  dead,  and  will  not  even  galvanise  much  farther  ;  but, 
in  fine,  is  hourly  sinking  towards  the  Abyss, — dragging  much 
along  with  him  thither.    Whole  worlds  along  with  him  :  such 


286 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


continents  of  things,  once  living  and  beautiful,  now  dead  and 
horrible  ;  things  once  sacred,  now  not  even  commonly  pro- 
fane : — fearful  and  wonderful,  to  every  thinking  heart  and  see- 
ing eye,  in  these  days  !  That  is  the  answer,  slowly  enunciated, 
but  irrevocable  and  indubitable,  which  Ignatius  gets  in  Heaven's 
High  Court,  when  he  appeals  there,  asking,  "  Am  I  a  Sanctus 
or  not,  as  the  Papa  and  his  Devil's- Advocate  told  me  I  was  ? " 

The  '  vivaciousness '  of  Jesuitism  is  much  spoken  of,  as  a 
thing  creditable.  And  truly  it  is  remarkable,  though  I  think 
in  the  way  of  wonder  even  more  than  of  admiration,  what  a 
quantity  of  killing  it  does  require.  To  say  nothing  of  the 
Cromwells  and  Gustavuses,  and  what  they  did,  they  and 
theirs, — it  is  near  a  century  now  since  Pombal  and  Aranda, 
secular  and  not  divine  men,  yet  useful  antiseptic  products  of 
their  generation,  felt  called,  if  not  consciously  by  Heaven, 
then  by  Earth  which  is  unconsciously  a  bit  of  Heaven,  to  cut- 
down  this  scandal  from  the  world,  and  make  the  earth  rid  of 
Jesuitism  for  one  thing.  What  a  wide-sweeping  shear  they 
gave  it,  as  with  the  sudden  scythe  of  universal  death,  is  well 
known  ;  and  how,  mown  down  from  side  to  side  of  the  world 
in  one  day,  it  had  to  lie  sorrowfully  slain  and  withering  under 
the  sun.  After  all  which,  nay  after  1793  itself,  does  not  Jesu- 
itism still  pretend  to  be  alive,  and  in  this  year  1850,  still  (by 
dint  of  steady  galvanism)  shows  some  quivering  in  its  fingers 
and  toes  ?  Vivacious,  sure  enough  ;  and  I  suppose  there  must 
be  reasons  for  it,  which  it  is  well  to  note  withal.  But  what  if 
such  vivaciousness  were,  in  good  part,  like  that  of  evil  weeds  ; 
if  the  1  strength  '  of  Jesuitism  were  like  that  of  typhus-fever, 
not  a  recommendable  kind  of  strength  ! 

I  hear  much  also  of  '  obedience,'  how  that  and  the  kindred 
virtues  are  prescribed  and  exemplified  by  Jesuitism  ;  the  truth 
of  which,  and  the  merit  of  which,  far  be  it  from  me  to  deny. 
Obedience,  a  virtue  universally  forgotten  in  these  days,  will 
have  to  become  universally  known  again.  Obedience  is  good, 
and  indispensable  :  but  if  it  be  obedience  to  what  is  wrong 
and  false, — good  Heavens,  there  is  no  name  for  such  a  depth 
of  human  cowardice  and  calamity  ;  spurned  everlastingly  by 


JESUITISM. 


2^7 


the  gods.  Lojralty  ?  Will  you  be  loyal  to  Beelzebub  ?  "Will 
you  '  make  a  covenant  with  Death  and  Hell '  ?  I  will  not  be 
loyal  to  Beelzebub  ;  I  will  become  a  nomadic  Chactaw  rather, 
a  barricading  Sansculotte,  a  Conciliation-Hall  repealer ;  any- 
thing and  everything  is  venial  to  that. 

The  virtues  of  Jesuitism,  seasoned  with  that  fatal  condiment, 
are  other  than  quite  virtuous  !  To  cherish  pious  thoughts,  and 
assiduously  keep  your  eye  directed  to  a  Heaven  that  is  not 
real  :  will  that  yield  divine  life  to  you,  or  hideous  galvanic  life- 
in-death?  To  cherish  may  quasi-human  virtues,  really  many 
possibilities  of  virtue  ;  and  wed  them  all  to  the  principle  that 
God  can  be  served  by  believing  what  is  not  true  :  to  put-out 
the  sacred  lamp  of  Intellect  within  you  ;  to  decide  on  maim- 
ing yourself  of  that  higher  godlike  gift,  which  God  himself 
has  given  you  with  a  silent  but  awful  charge  in  regard  to  it ; 
to  be  bullied  and  bowowed  out  of  your  loyalty  to  the  God  of 
Light  by  big  Phantasms  and  three-hatted  Chimeras  :  can  I  call 
that  by  the  name  of  nobleness  or  human  courage? — "Could 
not  help  it,"  say  you  ?  If  '  a  man  cannot  help  it,'  a  man  must 
allow  me  to  say  he  has  unfortunately  given  the  most  conspic- 
uous proof  of  caitiffhood  that  lay  within  his  human  possibility, 
and  he  must  cease  to  brag  to  me  about  his  1  virtues,'  in  that 
sad  case. 

But,  in  fact,  the  character  of  the  poor  creature  named  Ig- 
natius, whether  it  be  good  or  bad  and  worst,  concerns  us  little  ; 
not  even  that  of  the  specific  Jesuit  Body  concerns  us  much. 
The  Jesuits  proper  have  long  since  got  their  final  mittimus 
from  England.  Nor,  in  the  seventeenth  century, — with  an 
ubiquitous  alarming  Toby  Mathews,  Andreas  Habernfeld  and 
Company  ;  with  there  a  Father  Hyacinth,  and  here  a  William 
Laud  and  Charles  First, — was  this  by  any  means  so  light  a 
business  as  we  now  fancy.  But  it  has  been  got  accomplished. 
Long  now  have  the  English  People  understood  that  Jesuits 
proper,  in  so  far  as  they  are  not  Nothing  (which  is  the  com- 
monest case),  are  servants  of  the  Prince  of  Darkness  :  by 
Puritan  Cromwelliads  on  the  great  scale,  and  on  the  small  by 
diligent  hunting,  confinement  in  the  Clink  Prison,  and  judicial 


2S8  LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


tribulation, — let  us  say,  by  earnest  pious  thought  and  fight, 
and  the  labours  of  the  valiant  born  to  us, — this  country  has 
been  tolerably  cleared  of  Jesuits  proper  ;  nor  is  there  danger 
of  their  ever  coming  to  a  head  here  again.  But,  alas,  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Jesuit  Body  avails  us  little,  when  the  Jesuit 
Soul  has  so  nestled  itself  in  the  life  of  mankind  everywhere. 
What  we  have  to  complain  of  is,  that  all  men  are  become 
Jesuits !  That  no  man  speaks  the  truth  to  you  or  to  himself, 
but  that  every  man  lies, — with  blasphemous  audacity,  and 
does  not  know  that  he  is  lying, — before  God  and  man,  in  re- 
gard to  almost  all  manner  of  things.  This  is  the  fell  heritage 
bequeathed  us  by  Ignatius  ;  to  this  sad  stage  has  our  battle 
with  him  come. 

Consider  it,  good  reader  ; — and  yet  alas,  if  thou  be  not  one 
of  a  thousand,  what  is  the  use  of  bidding  thee  consider  it ! 
The  deadliest  essence  of  the  curse  we  now  labour  under  is 
that  the  light  of  our  inner  eyesight  is  gone  out ;  that  such 
things  are  not  discernible  by  considering.  1  Cant  and  even 
sincere  Cant : '  O  Heaven,  when  a  man  doing  his  sincerest  is 
still  but  canting  !  For  this  is  the  sad  condition  of  the  insin- 
cere man  :  he  is  doomed  all  his  days  to  deal  with  insinceri- 
ties ;  to  live,  move,  and  have  his  being  in  traditions  and 
conventionalities.  If  the  traditions  have  grown  old,  the  con- 
ventionalities will  be  mostly  false  ;  true  in  no  sense  can  they 
be  for  him  :  never  shall  he  behold  the  truth  of  any  matter  ; 
formulas,  theologic,  economic  and  other,  certain  superficial 
readings  of  truth,  required  in  the  market-place,  these  he  will 
take  with  him,  these  he  will  apply  dextrously,  and  with  these 
he  will  have  to  satisfy  himself.  Sincerity  shall  not  exist  for 
him  ;  he  shall  think  that  he  has  found  it,  while  it  is  yet  far 
away.  The  deep,  awful  and  indeed  divine  quality  of  truth 
that  lies  in  every  object,  and  in  virtue  of  which  the  object 
exists, — from  his  poor  eyes  this  is  forever  bidden.  Not  with 
austere  divine  realities  which  belong  to  the  Universe  and  to 
Eternity,  but  with  paltry  ambiguous  phantasms,  comfortable 
and  uncomfortable,  which  belong  to  his  own  parish,  and  to 
the  current  week  or  generation,  shall  he  pass  his  days. 

There  had  been  liars  in  the  world  J  alas,  never  since  the 


JESUITISM. 


289 


Old  Serpent  tempted  Eve,  bad  the  world  been  free  of  liars, 
neither  will  it  be  :  but  there  was  in  this  of  Jesuit  Ignatius  an 
apotheosis  of  falsity,  a  kind  of  subtle  quintessence  and  deadly 
virus  of  lying,  the  like  of  which  had  never  been  seen  before. 
Measure  it,  if  you  can  ;  prussic-acid  and  chloroform  are  poor 
to  it !  Men  had  served  the  Devil,  and  men  had  very  imper- 
fectly served  God  ;  but  to  think  that  God  could  be  served 
more  perfectly  by  taking  the  Devil  into  partnership, — this 
was  a  novelty  of  St.  Ignatius.  And  this  is  now  no  novelty  ; 
to  such  extent  has  the  Jesuit  chloroform  stupefied  us  all. 
This  is  the  universal  faith  and  practice,  for  several  genera- 
tions past,  of  the  class  called  good  men  in  this  world.  They 
are  in  general  mutineers,  sansculottes,  angry  disorderly  per- 
sons, and  a  class  rather  worthy  to  be  called  bad,  who  hitherto 
assert  the  contrary  of  this.  "  Be  careful  how  you  believe 
truth,"  cries  the  good  man  everywhere  :  "  Composure  and  a 
whole  skin  are  very  valuable.  Truth,  " — who  knows  ? — many 
things  are  not  true  ;  most  things  are  uncertainties,  very  pros- 
perous things  are  even  open  falsities  that  have  been  agreed 
upon.  There  is  little  certain  truth  going.  If  it  isn't  ortho- 
dox truth,  it  will  play  the  very  devil  wTith  you  !  " 

Did  the  Human  Species  ever  lie  in  such  a  soak  of  horrors, 
• — sunk  like  steeping  flax  under  the  wide-spread  fetid  Hell- 
waters, — in  all  spiritual  respects  dead,  dead;  voiceless  towards 
Heaven  for  centuries  back  ;  merely  sending  up,  in  the  form 
of  mute  prayer,  such  an  odour  as  the  angels  never  smelt  be- 
fore !  It  has  to  lie  there,  till  the  worthless  part  has  been  rotted 
out ;  till  much  has  been  rotted  out,  I  do  perceive  ; — and  per- 
haps the  time  has  come  when  the  precious  lint  fibre  itself  is  in 
danger  ;  and  men,  if  they  are  not  delivered,  will  cease  to  be 
men,  or  to  be  at  all !  O  Heavens,  with  divine  Hudson  on  this 
hand,  and  divine  Ignatius  on  that,  and  the  Gorham  Contro- 
versy going  on,  and  the  Irish  Tenant  Agitation  (which  will 
soon  become  a  Scotch  and  an  English  ditto)  just  about  begin- 
ning, is  not  the  hour  now  nearly  come?  Words  fail  us  when 
we  would  speak  of  what  Ignatius  has  done  for  men.  Probably 
the  most  virulent  form  of  sin  which  the  Old  Serpent  has  yet 
rejoiced  in  on  our  poor  Earth.  For  me  it  is  the  deadliest 
19 


290 


LATTER-BAT  PAMPHLETS. 


high  treason  against  God  our  Maker  which  the  soul  of  man 
could  commit. 

And  this,  then,  is  the  horrible  conclusion  we  have  arrived 
at,  in  England  as  in  all  countries  ;  and  with  less  protest  against 
it  hitherto,  and  not  with  more,  in  England  than  in  other  coun- 
tries ?  That  the  great  body  of  orderly  considerate  men  ;  men 
affecting  the  name  of  good  and  pious,  and  who,  in  fact,  ex- 
cluding certain  silent  exceptionary  individuals  one  to  the  mill- 
ion, such  as  the  Almighty  Beneficence  never  quite  withholds, 
are  accounted  our  best  men, — have  unconsciously  abnegated 
the  sacred  privilege  and  duty  of  acting  or  speaking  the  truth  ; 
and  fancy  that  it  is  not  truth  that  is  to  be  acted,  but  that  an 
amalgam  of  truth  and  falsity  is  the  safe  thing.  In  parliament 
and  pulpit,  in  book  and  speech,  in  whatever  spiritual  thing 
men  have  to  commune  of,  or  to  do  together,  this  is  the  rule 
they  have  lapsed  into,  this  is  the  pass  they  have  arrived  at. 
We  have  to  report  that  Human  Speech  is  not  true  !  That  it 
is  false  to  a  degree  never  witnessed  in  this  world  till  lately. 
Such  a  subtle  virus  of  falsity  in  the  very  essence  of  it,  as  far 
excels  all  open  lying,  or  prior  kinds  of  falsity  ;  false  with  con- 
sciousness of  being  sincere  !  The  heart  of  the  world  is  cor- 
rupted to  the  core  ;  a  detestable  devil's-poison  circulates  in  the 
life-blood  of  mankind  ;  taints  with  abominable  deadly  malady 
all  that  mankind  do.    Such  a  curse  never  fell  on  men  before. 

For  the  falsity  of  speech  rests  on  a  far  deeper  falsity.  False 
speech,  as  is  inevitable  when  men  long  practise  it,  falsifies  all 
things  ;  the  very  thoughts,  or  fountains  of  speech  and  action 
become  false.  Ere  long,  by  the  appointed  curse  of  Heaven,  a 
man's  intellect  ceases  to  be  capable  of  distinguishing  truth, 
when  he  permits  himself  to  deal  in  speaking  or  acting  what  is 
false.  Watch  well  the  tongue,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of 
life  !  O,  the  foul  leprosy  that  heaps  itself  in  monstrous  accu- 
mulation over  Human  Life,  and  obliterates  all  the  divine  feat- 
ures of  it  into  one  hideous  mountain  of  purulent  disease, 
when  Human  Life  parts  company  with  truth ;  and  fancies, 
taught  by  Ignatius  or  another,  that  lies  will  be  the  salvation 
of  it !  WTe  of  these  late  centuries  have  suffered  as  the  sons  of 
Adam  never  did  before .;  hebetated,  sunk  under  mountains  of 


JESUITISM. 


291 


torpid  leprosy  ;  and  studying  to  persuade  ourselves  that  tliiu 
is  health. 

And  if  we  have  awakened  from  the  sleep  of  death  into  the 
Sorcerer's  Sabbath  of  Anarchy,  is  it  not  the  chief  of  blessings 
that  we  are  awake  at  all?  Thanks  to  Transcendent  Sans- 
culottism  and  the  long-memorable  French  Revolution,  the  one 
veritable  and  tremendous  Gospel  of  these  bad  ages,  divine 
Gospel  such  as  we  deserved,  and  merciful  too,  though  preached 
in  thunder  and  terror  !  Napoleon  Campaignings,  September 
Massacres,  Reigns  of  Terror,  Anacharsis  Clootz  and  Pontiff 
Robespierre,  and  still  more  beggarly  tragicalities  that  we  have 
since  seen,  and  are  still  to  see  ;  what  frightful  thing  were  not 
a  little  less  frightful  than  the  thing  we  had  ?  Peremptory  was 
our  necessity  of  putting  Jesuitism  away,  of  awakening  to  the 
consciousness  of  Jesuitism.  '  Horrible,'  yes  :  how  could  it  be 
other  than  horrible  ?  Like  the  valley  of  Jehosaphat,  it  lies 
round  us,  one  nightmare  wilderness,  and  wreck  of  dead-men's 
bones,  this  false  modern  world  ;  and  no  rapt  Ezechiel  in  pro- 
phetic vision  imaged  to  himself  things  sadder,  more  horrible 
and  terrible,  than  the  eyes  of  men,  if  they  are  awake,  may  now 
deliberately  see.  Many  yet  sleep  ;  but  the  sleep  of  all,  as  we 
judge  by  their  maundering  and  jargoning,  their  Gorham  Con- 
troversies, street-barricadings,  and  uneasy  tossings  and  som- 
nambulisms, is  not  far  from  ending.  Novalis  says,  '  We  are 
near  awakening  when  we  dream  that  we  are  dreaming. * 


A  man's  1  religion  '  consists  not  of  the  many  things  he  is  in 
doubt  of  and  tries  to  believe,  but  of  the  few  he  is  assured  of, 
and  has  no  need  of  effort  for  believing.  His  religion,  what- 
ever it  may  be,  is  a  discerned  fact,  and  coherent  system  of 
discerned  facts  to  him  ;  he  stands  fronting  the  worlds  and  the 
eternities  upon  it :  to  doubt  of  it  is  not  permissible  at  all !  He 
must  verify  or  expel  his  doubts,  convert  them  into  certainty 
of  Yes  or  No  ;  or  they  will  be  the  death  of  his  religion. — But, 
on  the  other  hand,  convert  them  into  certainty  of  Yes  and  No  ; 
or  even  of  Yes  though  No,  as  the  Ignatian  method  is,  what 


292 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


will  become  of  your  religion  ?    Let  us  glance  a  little  at  this 

strange  aspect  of  our  affairs. 

What  a  man's  or  nation's  available  religion  at  any  time  is. 
may  sometimes,  especially  if  he  abound  in  Bishops,  Gorham 
Controversies,  and  richly  endowed  Churches  and  Church-prac- 
tices, be  difficult  to  say.  For  a  Nation  which,  under  very 
peculiar  circumstances,  closed  its  Bible  about  two  hundred 
years  ago,  hanged  the  dead  body  of  its  Cromwell,  and  accepted 
one  Charles  Second  for  Defender  of  its  Faith  so-called  ;  for 
such  a  Nation,  which  has  closed  its  Bible,  and  decided  that 
the  sufficient  and  much  handier  practice  would  be  to  kiss  the 
outside  of  said  Bible,  and  in  all  senses  swear  zealously  by  the 
same  without  opening  it  again, — the  question  what  its  'relig- 
ion '  is,  may  naturally  be  involved  in  obscurities !  Such  dra- 
maturgic fugle-worship  going  on  everywhere,  and  kissing  of 
the  closed  Bible,  what  real  worship,  religion,  or  recognition  of 
a  Divine  Necessity  in  Nature  and  Life,  there  may  be— Or,  in 
fact,  is  there  any  left  at  all  ?    Very  little,  I  should  say. 

The  religion  of  a  man  in  these  strange  circumstances,  what 
living  conviction  he  has  about  his  Destiny  in  this  Universe, 
falls  into  a  most  strange  condition  ; — and,  in  truth,  I  have  ob- 
served, is  apt  to  take  refuge  in  the  stomach  mainly.  The  man 
goes  through  his  prescribed  fugle-motions  at  church  and  else- 
where, keeping  his  conscience  and  sense  of  decency  at  ease 
thereby  ;  and  in  some  empty  part  of  his  brain,  if  he  have 
fancy  left,  or  brain  other  than  a  beaver's,  there  goes  on  occa- 
sionally some  dance  of  dreamy  hypotheses,  sentimental  echoes, 
shadows,  and  other  inane  make-believes, — which  I  think  are 
quite  the  contrary  of  a  possession  to  him  ;  leading  to  no  clear 
Faith,  or  divine  life-and-death  Certainty  of  any  kind  ;  but  to 
a  torpid  species  of  delirium  somniavs  and  delirium  stertens 
rather.  In  his  head  or  in  his  heart  this  man  has  of  available 
religion  none.  But  descend  into  his  stomach,  purse  and  the 
adjacent  regions,  you  then  do  awaken,  even  in  the  very  last 
extremity,  a  set  of  divine  beliefs,  were  it  only  belief  in  the 
multiplication-table,  and  certain  coarser  outward  forms  of 
meum  and  tuum.    He  believes  in  the  inalienable  nature  of 


JESUITISM. 


purchased  beef,  in  the  duty  of  the  British  citizen  to  fight  for 
himself  when  injured,  and  other  similar  faiths  : — an  actual 
'  religion '  of  its  sort,  or  revelation  of  what  the  Almighty 
Maker  means  with  him  in  this  Earth,  and  has  irrefragably,  as 
by  direct  inspiration,  charged  him  to  do.  This  is  the  man's 
religion  ;  this  poor  scantling  of  '  divine  convictions '  which  you 
find  lying,  mostly  inarticulate,  in  deep  sleep  at  the  bottom  of 
his  stomach,  and  have  such  difficulty  in  raising  into  any  kind 
of  elocution  or  conscious  wakefulness. 

Alas,  so  much  of  him,  his  soul  almost  wholly,  is  not  only 
asleep  there,  but  gone  drowned  and  dead.  The  '  religion ' 
you  awaken  in  him  is  often  of  a  very  singular  quality  ;  enough 
to  make  the  observer  pause  in  silence.  Such  a  religion,  is- 
suing practically  in  Hudson  Statues,  and,  alas,  also  in  Dis- 
tressed Needlewomen,  Cannibal  Connaughts,  and  1  remedial 
measures  suited  to  the  occasion,'  was  never  seen  among 
Adam's  Posterity  before.  But  it  is  this  modern  man's  religion  ; 
all  the  religion  you  will  get  of  him.  And  if  you  can  winnow- 
out  the  fugle-motions,  fantasies,  sentimentalisms,  make-be- 
lieves, and  other  multitudinous  chaff,  so  that  his  religion 
stands  before  you  in  its  net  condition,  you  may  contemplate 
it  with  scientific  astonishment,  with  innumerable  reflections, 
and  may  perhaps  draw  wise  inferences  from  it. 

A  singular  piece  of  scribble,  in  Sauerteig's  hand,  bearing- 
marks  of  haste  and  almost  of  rage  (for  the  words,  abbreviated 
to  the  bone,  tumble  about  as  if  in  battle  on  the  paper),  occurs 
to  me  at  this  moment,  entitled  Schwein'sche  Weltansicht ;  and 
and  I  will  try  to  decipher  and  translate  it. 

'  Pig  Philosophy. 

'If  the  inestimable  talent  of  Literature  should,  in  these 
swift  days  of  progress,  be  extended  to  the  brute  creation, 
having  fairly  taken-in  all  the  human,  so  that  swine  and  oxen 
could  communicate  to  us  on  paper  what  they  thought  of  the 
Universe,  there  might  curious  results,  not  uninstructive  to 
some  of  us,  ensue.  Supposing  swine  (I  mean  foarfooted 
swine),  of  sensibility  and  superior  logical  parts,  had  attained 
such  culture  ;  and  could,  after  survey  and  reflection,  jot-down 


294 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


for  us  their  notion  of  the  Universe,  and  of  their  interests  and 
duties  there, — might  it  not  well  interest  a  discerning  public, 
perhaps  in  unexpected  ways,  and  give  a  stimulus  to  the  lan- 
guishing book-trade  ?  The  votes  of  all  creatures,  it  is  under- 
stood at  present,  ought  to  be  had  ;  that  you  may  "legislate  " 
for  them  with  better  insight.  "How  can  you  govern  a 
thing,"  say  many,  "without  first  asking  its  vote?"  Unless, 
indeed,  you  already  chance  to  know  its  vote, — and  even  some- 
thing more,  namely,  what  you  are  to  think  of  its  vote  ;  what 
it  wants  by  its  vote  ;  and  still  more  important,  what  Nature 
wants,  which  latter,  at  the  end  of  the  account,  is  the  only 

thing  that  will  be  got !  Pig  Propositions,  in  a  rough  form, 

are  somewhat  as  follows  : 

'  1.  The  Universe,  so  far  as  sane  conjecture  can  go,  is  an 
immeasurable  Swine's-trough,  consisting  of  solid  and  liquid, 
and  of  other  contrasts  and  kinds  ; — especially  consisting  of 
attainable  and  unattainable,  the  latter  in  immensely  greater 
quantities  for  most  pigs. 

'  2.  Moral  evil  is  unattainability  of  Pig's- wash ;  moral  good, 
attainability  of  ditto. 

'3.  "  What  is  Paradise,  or  the  State  of  Innocence  ?  "  Para- 
dise, called  also  State  of  Innocence,  Age  of  Gold,  and  other 
names,  was  (according  to  Pigs  of  weak  judgment)  unlimited 
attainability  of  Pig's-wash  ;  perfect  fulfilment  of  one's  wishes, 
so  that  the  Pig's  imagination  could  not  outrun  reality  :  a  fable 
and  an  impossibility,  as  Pigs  of  sense  now  see. 

'  4.  "Define  the  Whole  Duty  of  Pigs."  It  is  the  mission 
of  universal  Pighood,  and  the  duty  of  all  Pigs,  at  all  times,  to 
diminish  the  quantity  of  unattainable  and  increase  that  of  at- 
tainable. All  knowledge  and  device  and  effort  ought  to  bo 
directed  thither  and  thither  only  ;  Pig  Science,  Pig  Enthusi- 
asm and  Devotion  have  this  one  aim.  It  is  the  Whole  Duty 
of  Pigs. 

1  5.  Pig  Poetry  ought  to  consist  of  universal  recognition  of 
the  excellence  of  Pig's-wash  and  ground  barley,  and  the  fe- 
licity of  Pigs  whose  trough  is  in  order,  and  who  have  had 
enough  :  Hrumph  ! 


JESUITISM. 


205 


'  6.  The  Pig  knows  the  weather  ;  he  ought  to  look  out  what 
kind  of  weather  it  will  be. 

'  7.  "  Who  made  the  Pig  ?  "  Unknown  ; — perhaps  the  Pork- 
butcher  ? 

'8.  "  Have  you  Law  and  Justice  in  Pigdom  ?  "  Pigs  of  ob- 
servation have  discerned  that  there  is,  or  was  once  supposed 
to  be,  a  thing  called  justice.  Undeniably  at  least  there  is  a 
sentiment  in  Pig-nature  called  indignation,  revenge,  &c, 
which,  if  one  Pig  provoke  another,  conies  out  in  a  more  or 
less  destructive  manner  :  hence  laws  are  necessary,  amazing- 
quantities  of  laws.  For  quarrelling  is  attended  with  loss  of 
blood,  of  life,  at  any  rate  with  frightful  effusion  of  the  general 
stock  of  Hog's-wash,  and  ruin  (temporary  ruin)  to  large  sec- 
tions of  the  universal  Swine's-trough  :  wherefore  let  justice  be 
observed,  that  so  quarrelling  be  avoided. 

'  9.  "  What  is  justice  ?  "  Your  own  share  of  the  general 
Swine's-trough,  not  any  portion  of  my  share. 

'  10.  "  But  what  is  '  my  '  share  ?  "  Ah  !  there  in  fact  lies 
the  grand  difficulty  ;  upon  which  Pig  science,  meditating  this 
long  while,  can  settle  absolutely  nothing.  My  share — hrumph  ! 
— my  share  is,  on  the  whole,  whatever  I  can  contrive  to  get 
without  being  hanged  or  sent  to  the  hulks.  For  there  are 
gibbets,  treadmills,  I  need  not  tell  you,  and  rules  which  Law- 
yers have  prescribed. 

'11.  "Who  are  Lawyers?"  Servants  of  God,  appointed 
revealers  of  the  oracles  of  God,  who  read-off  to  us  from  day 
to  day  what  is  the  eternal  Commandment  of  God  in  reference 
to  the  mutual  claims  of  his  creatures  in  this  world. 

'  12.  "  Where  do  they  find  that  written  ?  "  In  Coke  upon 
Lyttleton. 

'13.  "  Who  made  Coke  ?  "  Unknown  :  the  maker  of  Cokes 
wig  is  discoverable. — "  What  became  of  Coke  ?  "    Died. — ■ 

"And  then?"    Went  to  the  undertaker;  went  to  the  '  

But  we  must  pull  up  :  Sauerteig's  fierce  humour,  confounding 
ever  farther  in  his  haste  the  fourfooted  with  the  twofooted  ani- 
mal, rushes  into  wilder  and  wilder  forms  of  satirical  torch- 
dancing,  and  threatens  to  end  in  a  universal  Kape  of  the  Wigs, 
which  in  a  person  of  his  character  looks  ominous  and  danger- 


296 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


ous.  Here,  for  example,  is  his  fifty-first  '  Proposition,'  as  he 
calls  it  : 

'51.  "What  are  Bishops?"  Overseers  of  souls. — "What 
is  a  soul  ?  "  The  thiDg  that  keeps  the  body  alive. — "  How  do 
they  oversee  that  ?  "  They  tie  on  a  kind  of  aprons,  publish 
charges  ;  I  believe  they  pray  dreadfully  ;  macerate  themselves 
nearly  dead  with  continual  grief  that  they  cannot  in  the  least 
oversee  it. — "And  are  much  honoured?"  By  the  wise  very 
much. 

'  52.  "Define  the  Church."  I  had  rather  not.— "  Do  you 
believe  in  a  Future  state?"  Yes,  surely. — "What  is  it?" 
Heaven,  so-called. — "  To  everybody  ?  "  I  understand  so  ;  hope 
so  i_«  What  is  it  thought  to  be  ?  "  Hrumph  !— "  No  Hell 
then,  at  all  ?  "—Hrumph  ! ' 


The  Fine  Arts  are  by  some  thought  to  be  a  kind  of  religion  : 
the  chief  religion  this  poor  Europe  is  to  have  in  time  coming ; 
and  undoubtedly  it  is  in  Literature,  Poetry  and  the  other  kin- 
dred Arts,  where  at  least  a  certain  manliness  of  temper,  and 
liberty  to  follow  truth,  prevails  or  might  prevail,  that  the 
world's  chosen  souls  do  now  chiefly  take  refuge,  and  attempt 
what  '  Worship  of  the  Beautiful '  may  still  be  possible  for 
them.  The  Poet  in  the  Fine  Arts,  especially  the  Poet  in 
Speech,  what  Fichte  calls  the  (  Scholar  '  or  the  '  Literary  Man,' 
is  defined  by  Fichte  as  the  '  Priest '  of  these  Modern  Epochs, 
— all  the  Priest  they  have.  And  indeed  Nature  herself  will 
teach  us  that  the  man  born  with  what  we  call  '  genius,'  which 
will  mean,  born  with  better  and  larger  understanding  than 
others  ;  the  man  in  whom  '  the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty,' 
given  to  all  men,  has  a  higher  potentiality  ; — that  he,  and 
properly  he  only,  is  the  perpetual  Priest  of  Men  ;  ordained  to 
the  office  by  God  himself,  whether  men  can  be  so  lucky  as  to 
get  him  ordained  to  it  or  not :  nay,  he  does  the  office,  too, 
after  a  sort,  in  this  and  in  all  epochs.  Ever  must  the  Fine 
Arts  be  if  not  religion,  yet  indissolubly  united  to  it,  depeud- 
ent  on  it,  vitally  blended  with  it  as  body  is  with  soul. 

Why  should  I  say,  Ignatius  Loyola  ruined  our  Fine  Arts  ? 


JESUITISM. 


297 


Ignatius  thought  not  of  the  Fine  Arts  ;  nor  is  the  guilt  all  his. 
Ignatius,  intent  on  the  heart  of  the  matter,  did  but  consecrate 
in  the  name  of  Heaven,  and  religiously  welcome  as  life  in 
God,  the  universal  death  in  the  Devil  which  of  itself  was  pre- 
paring to  come— on  the  Fine  Arts  as  on  all  things.  The  Fine 
Arts  are  not  what  I  most  regret  in  the  catastrophe  so  fright- 
fully accelerated  and  consummated  by  him  !  If  men's  prac- 
tical faith  have  become  a  Pig  Philosophy,  and  their  divine 
worship  have  become  a  Mumbojumboism,  soliciting  in  dumb 
agony  either  change  to  the  very  heart  or  else  extinction  and 
abolition,  it  matters  little  what  their  fine  or  other  arts  may  be. 
All  arts,  industries  and  pursuits  they  have,  are  tainted  to  the 
heart  with  foul  poison  ;  carry  not  in  them  the  inspiration  of 
God,  but  (frightful  to  think  of !)  that  of  the  Devil  calling  and 
thinking  himself  God  ;  and  are  smitten  with  a  curse  for  ever- 
more. What  judgment  the  Academy  of  Cognoscenti  may 
pronounce  on  them,  is  unimportant  to  me  ;  what  splendour  of 
upholstery  and  French  cookery,  and  temporary  bullion  at  the 
Bank,  may  be  realized  from  them,  is  important  to  M'Croudy, 
not  to  me. 

Such  bullion,  I  perceive  well,  can  but  be  temporary  ; — and 
if  it  were  to  be  eternal,  would  bullion  reconcile  me  to  them  ? 
No,  M'Croudy,  never.  Bullion,  temporary  bullion  itself, 
awakens  the  hallelujah  of  flunkies ;  but  even  eternal  bullion 
ought  to  make  small  impression  upon  men.  To  men  I  count 
it  a  human  blessedness,  and  stern  benignity  of  Heaven,  that 
when  their  course  is  false  and  ignoble,  their  bullion  begins  to 
leave  them  ;  that  ultimate  bankruptcy,  and  flat  universal  ruin, 
published  in  the  gazette,  and  palpable  even  to  flunkies,  fol- 
lows step  by  step,  at  a  longer  or  shorter  interval,  all  solecisms 
under  this  sun.  Certain  as  shadow  follows  substance  ;  it  is 
the  oldest  law  of  Fate  : — and  one  good  day,  open  ruin,  bank- 
ruptcy and  foul  destruction,  does  overtake  them  all.  Let  us 
bless  God  for  it.  Were  it  otherwise,  what  end  could  there  be 
of  solecisms  ?  The  temporary  paradise  of  quacks  and  flunkies 
were  now  an  eternal  paradise  ;  how  could  the  noble  soul  find 
harbour  or  patience  in  this  world  at  all  ?  This  world  were 
the  inheritance  of  the  ignoble ; — a  very  Bedlam,  as  some 


298 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


sceptics  have  fancied  it ;  made  by  malignant  gods  in  their 
sport. 

But  as  to  Jesuitism  in  the  Fine  Arts,  and  how  its  unsus- 
pected thrice-unblessed  presence  here  too  smites  the  genius 
of  mankind  with  paralysis,  there  were  much  to  be  said.  Sor- 
rowful reflections  lie  in  that,  far  beyond  what  a  discerning 
public  fancies  in  these  days  ;  reflections  which  cannot  be 
entered  upon,  which  can  hardly  be  indicated  afar  off,  at  pres- 
ent. Here  too,  as  elsewhere,  the  consummate  flower  of  Con- 
secrated Unveracity  reigns  supreme  ;  and  here  as  elsewhere 
peaceably  presides  over  an  enormous  Life-in-Death  ! 

"  May  the  Devil  fly  away  with  the  Fine  Arts  !  "  exclaimed 
confidentially  once,  in  my  hearing,  one  of  our  most  distin- 
guished public  men  ;  a  sentiment  that  often  recurs  to  me.  I 
perceive  too  well  how  true  it  is,  in  our  case.  A  public  man, 
intent  on  any  real  business,  does,  I  suppose,  find  the  Fine  Arts 
rather  imaginary.  The  Fine  Arts,  wherever  they  turn-up  as 
business,  whatever  Committee  sit  upon  them,  are  sure  to  be 
the  parent  of  much  empty  talk,  laborious  hypocrisy,  dilettant- 
ism, futility ;  involving  huge  trouble  and  expense  and  babble, 
which  end  in  no  result,  if  not  in  worse  than  none.  The  prac- 
tical man,  in  his  moments  of  sincerity,  feels  them  to  be  a  pre- 
tentious nothingness  ;  a  confused  superfluity  and  nuisance, 
purchased  with  cost — what  he  in  brief  language  denominates 
a  bore.  It  is  truly  so,  in  these  degraded  days : — and  the  Fine 
Arts,  among  other  fine  interests  of  ours,  are  really  called  to 
recognise  it,  and  see  what  they  will  do  in  it.  For  they  are 
become  the  Throne  of  Hypocrisy,  I  think  the  highest  of  her 
many  thrones,  these  said  Arts  ;  which  is  very  sad  to  consider  ! 
Nowhere,  not  even  on  a  gala-day  in  the  Pope's  Church  of  St. 
Peter,  is  there  such  an  explosion  of  intolerable  hypocrisy,  on 
the  part  of  poor  mankind,  as  when  }rou  admit  them  into  their 
Royal  Picture-gallery,  Glyptothek,  Museum,  or  other  divine 
Temple  of  the  Fine  Arts.  Hypocrisy  doubly  intolerable  ;  be- 
cause it  is  not  here,  as  in  St.  Peter's  and  some  other  Churches, 
an  obliged  hypocrisy  but  a  voluntary  one.  Nothing  but  your 
own  vanity  prompts  you  here  to  pretend  worshipping  ;  you 


JESUITISM. 


299 


are  not  bound  to  worship,  and  twaddle  pretended  raptures, 
criticisms  and  poetic  recognitions,  unless  you  like  it ; — and  you 
do  not  the  least  know  what  a  damnable  practice  it  is,  or  you 
wouldn't !  I  make  a  rule,  these  many  years  back,  to  speak 
almost  nothing,  and  encourage  no  speech  in  Picture-galleries  ; 
to  avoid  company,  even  that  of  familiar  friends,  in  such  situa- 
tions ;  and  perambulate  the  place  in  silence.  You  can  thus 
worship  or  not  worship,  precisely  as  the  gods  bid  you  ;  and 
are  at  least  under  no  obligation  to  do  hypocrisies,  if  you  cau- 
not  conveniently  worship. 

The  fact  is,  though  men  are  not  in  the  least  aware  of  it, 
the  Fine  Arts,  divorced  entirely  from  Truth  this  long  while, 
and  wedded  almost  professedly  to  Falsehood,  Fiction  and 
suchlike,  are  got  into  what  we  must  call  an  insane  condition  : 
they  walk  abroad  without  keepers,  nobody  suspecting  their 
sad  state,  and  do  fantastic  tricks  equal  to  any  in  Bedlam, — 
especially  when  admitted  to  work  'regardless  of  expense,'  as 
we  sometimes  see  them  !  What  earnest  soul  passes  that  new 
St.  Stephen's,  and  its  wilderness  of  stone  pepperboxes  with 
their  tin  flags  atop,  worth  two  millions  I  am  told,  without 
mentally  exclaiming  Apage,  and  cutting  some  pious  cross  in 
the  air  !  If  that  be  '  ideal  beauty,'  except  for  sugarwork,  and 
the  more  elaborate  kinds  of  gingerbread,  what  is  real  ugliness? 
To  say  merely  (with  an  architectonic  trumpet-blast  that  cost 
two-millions),  "  Good  Christians,  you  observe  well  I  am  re- 
gardless of  expense,  and  also  of  veracity,  in  every  form  ? '' 
Too  truly  these  poor  Fine  Arts  have  fallen  mad  ! 

The  Fine  Arts  once  divorcing  themselves  from  truth,  are 
quite  certain  to  fall  mad,  if  they  do  not  die,  and  get  flown 
away  with  by  the  Devil,  which  latter  is  only  the  second-worst 
result  for  us.  Truth,  fact,  is  the  life  of  all  things  ;  falsity, 
'  fiction '  or  whatever  it  may  call  itself,  is  certain  to  be  death, 
and  is  already  insanity,  to  whatever  thing  takes  up  with  it. 
Fiction,  even  to  the  Fine  Arts,  is  not  a  quite  permissible  thing. 
Sparingly  permissible,  within  iron  limits  ;  or  if  you  will  reckon 
strictly,  not  permissible  at  all !  The  Fine  Arts  too,  like  the 
coarse  and  every  art  of  Man's  god-given  Faculty,  are  to  under- 
stand that  they  are  sent  hither  not  to  fib  and  dance,  but  to 


300 


LATTER-DA  T  PAMPHLETS. 


speak  and  work  ;  and,  on  the  whole,  that  God  Almighty's 
Facts,  such  as  given  us,  are  the  one  pabulum  which  will  yield 
them  any  nourishment  in  this  world.  O  Heavens,  had  they 
always  well  remembered  that,  what  a  world  were  it  now  ! 

This  seems  strange  doctrine  :  but  it  is  to  me,  this  long 
while,  too  sorrowfully  certain  ;  and  I  invite  all  my  artist  friends, 
of  the  painting,  sculpturing,  speaking,  writing,  especially  of  the 
singing  and  rhyming  department,  to  meditate  upon  it,  till,  with 
amazement,  remorse,  and  determination  to  amend,  they  get  to 
see  what  lies  in  it !  Homer's  Iliad,  if  you  examine,  is  no  Fic- 
tion but  a  Ballad  History  ;  the  heart  of  it  burning  with  enthu- 
siastic ill-informed  belief.  It  '  sings  '  itself,  because  its  rude 
heart,  rapt  into  transcendency  of  zeal  and  admiration,  is  too 
full  for  speaking.  The  '  valour  of  Tydides,'  '  wrath  of  the  di- 
vine Achilles  : '  in  old  Greece,  in  Phthiotis  and  iEtolia,  to  ear- 
nest souls  that  could  believe  them,  these  things  were  likely  to 
be  interesting !  Human  speech  was  once  wholly  true  ;  as 
transcendent  human  speech  still  is.  The  Hebrew  Bible,  is  it 
not,  before  all  things,  true,  as  no  other  Book  ever  was  or  will 
be  ?  All  great  Poems,  all  great  Books,  if  you  search  the  first 
foundation  of  their  greatness,  have  been  veridical,  the  truest 
they  could  get  to  be.  Never  will  there  be  a  great  Poem  more 
that  is  not  veridical,  that  does  not  ground  itself  on  the  Inter- 
preting of  Fact ;  to  the  rigorous  exclusion  of  all  falsity,  fiction, 
idle  dross  of  every  kind  :  never  can  a  Poem  truly  interest  hu- 
man souls,  except  by,  in  the  first  place,  taking  with  it  the  be- 
lief of  said  souls.  Their  belief ;  that  is  the  whole  basis,  essence, 
and  practical  outcome,  of  human  soul :  leave  that  behind  you, 
as  'Poets 'everywhere  have  for  a  longtime  done,  what  is  there 
left  the  Poets  and  you  ! 

The  early  Nations  of  the  world,  all  Nations  so  long  as  they 
continued  simple  and  in  earnest,  knew  without  teaching  that 
their  History  was  an  Epic  and  Bible,  the  clouded  struggling 
Image  of  a  God's  Presence,  the  action  of  heroes  and  god-in» 
spired  men.  The  noble  intellect  that  could  disenthral  such 
divine  image,  and  present  it  to  them  clear,  unclouded,  in  visi- 
ble coherency  comprehensible  to  human  thought,  was  felt  to 


JESUITISM. 


301 


be  a  Vates  and  the  chief  of  intellects.  No  need  to  bid  him 
sing  it,  make  a  Poem  of  it.  Nature  herself  compelled  him  ; 
except  in  Song  or  in  Psalm,  such  an  insight  by  human  eyes 
into  the  divine  was  not  utterable.  These  are  the  Bibles  of 
Nations ;  to  each  its  Believed  History  is  its  Bible.  Not  in 
Judea  alone,  or  Hellas  and  Latium  alone  ;  but  in  all  lands  and 
all  times.  Nor,  deeply  as  the  fact  is  now  forgotten,  has  it  es- 
sentially in  the  smallest  degree  ceased  to  be  the  fact,  nor  will 
it  cease.  With  every  Nation  it  is  so,  and  with  every  man  ; — 
for  every  Nation,  I  suppose,  was  made  by  God,  and  every  man 
too?  Only  there  are  some  Nations,  like  some  men,  who  know 
it ;  and  some  who  do  not.  The  great  Nations  are  they  that 
have  known  it  well ;  the  small  and  contemptible,  both  of  men 
and  Nations,  are  they  that  have  either  never  known  it,  or  soon 
forgotten  it  and  never  laid  it  to  heart.  Of  these  comes  noth- 
ing. The  measure  of  a  Nation's  greatness,  of  its  worth  under 
this  sky  to  God  and  to  men,  is  not  the  quantity  of  cotton  it 
can  spin,  the  quantity  of  bullion  it  has  realised  ;  but  the  quan- 
tity of  heroisms  it  has  achieved,  of  noble  pieties  and  valiant 
wisdoms  that  were  in  it, — that  still  are  in  it. 

Beyond  doubt  the  Almighty  Maker  made  this  England  too  ; 
and  has  been  and  forever  is  miraculously  present  here.  The 
more  is  the  pity  for  us  if  our  eyes  are  grown  owlish,  and  can- 
not see  this  fact  of  facts  when  it  is  before  us !  Once  it  was 
known  that  the  Highest  did  of  a  surety  dwell  in  this  Nation, 
divinely  avenging,  and  divinely  saving  and  rewarding  ;  lead- 
ing, by  steep  and  naming  paths,  by  heroisms,  pieties  and 
noble  acts  and  thoughts,  this  Nation  heavenward,  if  it  would 
and  dared.  Known  or  not,  this  (or  else  the  terrible  inverse  of 
this)  is  forevermore  the  fact !  The  History  of  England  too, 
had  the  Fine  or  other  Arts  taught  us  to  read  it  right,  is  the 
record  of  the  Divine  Appearances  among  us  ;  of  the  bright- 
nesses out  of  Heaven  that  have  irradiated  our  terrestrial  strug- 
gle ;  and  spanned  our  wild  deluges,  and  weltering  seas  of 
trouble,  as  with  celestial  rainbows,  and  symbols  of  eternal 
covenants.  It  is  the  Bible  of  the  Nation  :  what  part  of  it  they 
have  laid  to  heart,  and  do  practically  know  for  truth,  is  the 
available  Bible  they  have. 


302 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


Ask  yourselves,  What  are  the  eternal  covenants  which  you 
can  believe,  and  dare  not  for  your  life's  sake  but  go  and  ob- 
serve ?  These  are  your  Bible,  your  God's  Word  such  as  it 
may  be  :  these  you  will  continually  struggle  to  obey  ;  other 
than  these,  not  continually,  or  authentically  at  all.  Did  the 
Maker  of  this  Universe  reveal  himself,  to  your  believing  Intel- 
lect, in  scrip  mainly,  in  Cotton  Trades,  and  profitable  indus- 
tries and  gamblings  ?  Here  too  you  will  see  '  miracles  : ' 
tubular  bridges,  gutta-percha  telegraphs ;  not  to  speak  of 
sudden  Hudson  cornucopias,  scrip  manna- showers,  and  pil- 
lar-of -cloud  for  all  the  flunkies, — miracles  after  a  sort.  Your 
Bible  will  be  a  Political  Economy  ;  your  psalmist  and  evan- 
gelist will  be  M'Croudy  ;  your  practical  worship  the  insatia- 
ble desire,  and  continual  sacred  effort,  to  make  money.  Bible, 
of  one  or  the  other  sort,  bible,  evangelist,  and  worship  you  in- 
fallibly will  have  : — and  some  are  God-worships,  fruitful  in 
human  heroisms,  in  blessed  arts,  and  deeds  long-memorable, 
shining  with  a  sacred  splendour  of  the  empyrean  across  all 
earthly  darknesses  and  contradictions  :  and  some  again  are,  to 
a  terrible  extent,  Devil-worships,  fruitful  in  temporary  bullion, 
in  upholstery,  gluttony  and  universal  varnish  and  gold-leaf  ; 
and  issuing,  alas,  at  length  in  street-barricades,  and  a  con- 
fused return  of  them  to  the  Devil  whose  they  are  ! — My  friend, 
I  have  to  speak  in  crude  language,  the  wretched  times  being 
dumb  and  deaf  :  and  if  thou  find  no  truth  under  this  but  the 
phantom  of  an  extinct  Hebrew  one,  I  at  present  cannot  help  it. 

Hengst  Invasions,  Norman  Conquests,  Battles  of  Brunan- 
burg,  Battles  of  Evesham,  Towton  ;  Plantagenets,  Wars  of 
Roses,  Wars  of  Roundheads  :  does  the  fool  in  his  heart  be- 
lieve that  all  this  was  a  Donnybrook  Bedlam,  originating  no- 
where, proceeding  nowhither  ?  His  beautifully  cultivated  in- 
tellect has  given  him  such  interpretation,  and  no  better,  of 
the  Universe  we  live  in  ?  He  discerns  it  to  be  an  enormous 
sooty  Weaving-shop,  and  turbid  Manufactory  of  eatables  and 
drinkables  and  wearables  ;  sparingly  supplied  with  provender 
by  the  industrious  individuals,  and  much  infested  by  the  mad 
and  idle.  And  he  can  consent  to  live  here  ;  he  does  not  con- 
tinually think  of  suicide  as  a  remedy  ?    The  unhappy  mortal ; 


JESUITISM. 


303 


if  a  soul  ever  awaken  in  him  again,  his  first  thought  will  be  of 
prussic-acid,  I  should  say  ! — 

All  History,  whether  M'Croudy  and  his  Fine  Arts  know  the 
fact  or  not,  is  an  inarticulate  Bible  ;  and  in  a  dim  intricate 
manner  reveals  the  Divine  Appearances  in  this  lower  world. 
For  God  did  make  this  world,  and  does  forever  govern  it ;  the 
loud-roaring  Loom  of  Time,  with  all  its  French  revolutions, 
Jewish  revelations,  'weaves  the  vesture  thou  seest  Him  by.' 
There  is  no  Biography  of  a  man,  much  less  any  History,  or 
Biography  of  a  Nation,  but  wraps  in  it  a  message  out  of 
Heaven,  addressed  to  the  hearing  ear  or  to  the  not  hearing. 
What  this  Universe  is,  what  the  Laws  of  God  are,  the  Life  of 
every  man  will  a  little  teach  it  you  ;  the  Life  of  All  Men  and 
of  All  Things,  only  this  could  wholly  teach  it  you, — and  you 
are  to  be  open  to  learn. 

Who  are  they,  gifted  from  above,  that  will  convert  volumin- 
ous Dryasdust  into  an  Epic  and  even  a  Bible  ?  Who  will 
smelt,  in  the  all-victorious  fire  of  his  soul,  these  scandalous 
bewildering  rubbish-mountains  of  sleepy  Dryasdust,  till  they 
give-up  the  golden  ingot  that  lies  imprisoned  in  them  ?  The 
veritable  'revelation,'  this,  of  the  ways  of  God  to  England; 
how  the  Almighty  Power,  and  his  mysterious  Providences, 
dealt  heretofore  with  England  ;  more  and  more  what  the  Al- 
mighty's judgments  with  us,  his  chastisements  and  his  benefi- 
cences, were  ;  what  the  Supreme  Will,  since  ushering  this 
English  People  on  the  stage  of  things,  has  guided  them  to  do 
and  to  become.  Fine  Arts,  Literatures,  Poetries?  If  they 
are  Human  Arts  at  all,  where  have  they  been  wool-gathering, 
these  centuries  long  ; — wandering  literally  like  creatures  fallen 
mad ! 

It  awakens  graver  thoughts  than  were  in  Marlborough,  that 
saying  of  his,  That  he  knew  no  English  History  but  what  he 
had  learned  from  Shakspeare.  In  Shakspeare's  grand  intelli- 
gence the  History  of  England,  cursory  as  was  his  study  of  it, 
does  model  itself,  for  the  first  time,  into  something  of  rhyth- 
mic and  poetic  ;  there  are  scattered  traits  and  tones  of  a  Na- 
tional Epos  in  those  Historical  Plays  of  his.  In  Shakspeare, 
more  than  in  another,  lay  that  high  vates  talent  of  interpreting 


304 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


confused  human  Actualities,  and  unfolding-  what  divine  melo- 
dious Ideals,  or  Thoughts  of  the  Supreme,  were  embodied  in 
them  :  he,  more  than  any  other,  might  have  done  somewhat 
towards  making  History  a  Bible.  But,  alas,  it  was  not  in  the 
Temple  of  the  Nations,  with  all  intelligences  ministering  to 
him  and  cooperating  with  him,  that  his  workshop  was  laid  ;  it 
was  in  the  Bankside  Playhouse  that  Shakspeare  was  set  to 
work,  and  the  sovereign  populace  had  ware  for  their  sixpence 
from  him  there  ! — 

After  all,  I  do  not  blame  the  poor  Fine  Arts  for  taking  into 
fiction,  and  into  all  the  deeper  kinds  of  falsity  which  grow 
from  that.  Ignatius,  and  a  world  too  ready  to  follow  him,  had 
discovered  the  divine  virtues  of  fiction  in  far  higher  provinces : 
the  road  to  fiction  lay  wide-open  for  all  things  !  But  Nature's 
eternal  voice,  inaudible  at  present  or  faintly  audible,  proclaims 
the  contrary  nevertheless  ;  and  will  make  it  known  again  one 
day.  Fiction,  I  think,  or  idle  falsity  of  any  kind,  was  never 
tolerable,  except  in  a  world  which  did  itself  abound  in  prac- 
tical lies  and  solemn  shams  ;  and  which  had  gradually  im- 
pressed on  its  inhabitants  the  inane  form  of  character  tolerant 
of  that  kind  of  ware.  A  serious  soul,  can  it  wish,  even  in 
hours  of  relaxation,  that  you  should  fiddle  empty  nonsense  to 
it  ?  A  serious  soul  would  desire  to  be  entertained,  either  with 
absolute  silence,  or  with  what  was  truth,  and  had  fruit  in  it, 
and  was  made  by  the  Maker  of  us  all.  "With  the  idle  soul  I 
can  fancy  it  far  otherwise  ;  but  only  with  the  idle. 

Given  an  idle  potentate,  monster  of  opulence,  gluttonous 
bloated  Nawaub,  of  black  colour  or  of  white, — naturally  he 
will  have  prating  story-tellers  to  amuse  his  half-sleepy  hours 
of  rumination  ;  if  from  his  deep  gross  stomach,  sinking  over- 
loaded as  if  towards  its  last  torpor,  they  can  elicit  any  tran- 
sient glow  of  interest,  tragic  or  comic,  especially  any  wrinkle 
of  momentary  laughter,  however  idle,  great  shall  be  their  re- 
ward. Wits,  story-tellers,  ballad-singers,  especially  dancing- 
girls  who  understand  their  trade,  are  in  much  request  with 
such  gluttonous  half  sleeping,  black  or  white  Monster  of  Opu- 
lence.   A  bevy  of  supple  dancing-girls  who  with  the  due  mix- 


JESUITISM. 


305 


ture  (mixture  settled  by  custom),  and  with  not  more  than  the 
due  mixture,  of  lascivious  lire,  will  represent  to  him,  brandish- 
ing their  daggers,  and  rhythmically  chanting  and  posturing, 
the  Loves  of  Vishnu,  Loves  of  Adonis,  Death  of  Psyche,  Bar- 
ber of  Seville,  or  whatever  nonsense  there  may  be,  according 
to  time  or  country  :  these  are  the  kind  of  artists  fit  for  such 
unfortunate  stuffed  stupefied  Nawaub,  in  his  hours  of  rumina- 
tion ;  upon  these  his  hot  heavy-laden  eye  may  rest  without  ab- 
horrence ;  if  with  perceptible  momentary  satisfaction  emerg- 
ing from  his  bottomless  ennui, — then  victory  and  gold-purses 
to  the  artist  ;  be  such  artist  crowned  with  laurel  or  with  pars- 
ley, and  declared  divine  in  presence  of  all  men. 

Luxurious  Europe,  in  its  reading  publics,  dilettanti,  cog- 
noscenti and  other  publics,  is  wholly  one  big  ugly  Nawaub  of 
that  kind  ;  who  has  converted  all  the  Fine  Arts  into  after- 
dinner  amusements ;  slave  adjuncts  to  his  cookeries,  uphol- 
steries, tailories,  and  other  palpably  Coarse  Arts.  The  brutish 
monster  has  turned  all  the  Nine  Muses,  who  by  birth  are  sa- 
cred Priestesses  of  Heaven,  into  scandalous  Bayaderes  ;  and 
they  dance  with  supple  motions,  to  enlighten  the  vile  darkness 
of  his  ennui  for  him.  Too  truly  mad,  these  poor  Fine  Arts ! 
The  Coarse  Arts  too,  if  he  had  not  an  authentic  stomach  and 
skin,  which  always  bring  him  a  little  right  again  in  those  de- 
partments, would  go  mad. 

How  all  things  hang  together!  Universal  Jesuitism  hav- 
ing once  lodged  itself  in  the  heart,  you  will  see  it  in  the  very 
finger-nails  by  and  by.  Calculate  how  far  it  is  from  Sophocles 
and  iEschylus  to  Knowles  and  Scribe  ;  how  Homer  has  grad- 
ually changed  into  Sir  Harris  Nicolas  ;  or  what  roads  the' 
human  species  must  have  travelled  before  a  Psalm  of  David 
could  become  an  Opera  at  the  Haymarket,  and  men,  with 
their  divine  gift  of  Music,  instead  of  solemnly  celebrating  the 
highest  fact,  or  '  singing  to  the  praise  of  God,'  consented  to 
celebrate  the  lowest  nonsense,  and  sing  to  the  praise  of  Jenny 
Lind  and  the  Gazza  Ladra, — perhaps  the  step  from  Oliver 
Cromwell  to  Lord  John  Russell  will  not  seem  so  unconscion- 
able !  I  find  it  within,  and  not  without,  the  order  of  Nature ; 
20 


306 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


and  that  all  things,  like  all  men,  are  blood-relations  to  one 
another. 

This  accursed  nightmare,  which  we  name  Jesuitism,  will 
have  to  vanish  ;  our  comfort  is,  that  life  itself  is  not  much 
longer  possible  otherwise.  But  I  say,  have  you  computed  what 
a  distance  forwards  it  may  be  towards  some  new  Psalm  of 
David  done  with  our  new  appliances,  and  much  improved 
wind-instruments,  grammatical  and  other  ?  That  is  the  dis- 
tance of  the  new  Golden  Age,  my  friend  ;  not  less  than  that,  I 
lament  to  say  !  And  the  centuries  that  intervene  are  a  foul 
agonistic  welter  through  the  Stygian  seas  of  mud  :  a  long  Scav- 
enger Age,  inevitable  where  the  Mother  of  Abominations  has 
long  dwelt. 


It  is  to  be  hoped  one  is  not  blind  withal  to  the  celebrated 
virtues  that  are  in  Jesuitism  ;  to  its  missionary  zeal,  its  con- 
tempt of  danger,  its  scientific,  heroic  and  other  prowesses,  of 
which  there  is  such  celebrating".  I  do  not  doubt  that  there 
are  virtues  in  it ;  that  we  and  it,  along  with  this  immeasurable 
sea  of  miseries  which  it  has  brought  upon  us,  shall  ultimately 
get  the  benefit  of  its  virtues  too.  Peruvian  bark,  of  use  in 
human  agues  ;  tidings  from  the  fabulous  East  by  D'Herbelot, 
Du  Halde,  and  others  ;  examples  of  what  human  energy  and 
faculty  are  equal  to,  even  under  the  inspiration  of  Ignatius  : 
nothing  of  this  small  residue  of  pearls  from  such  a  continent 
of  putrid  shellfish,  shall  be  lost  to  the  world.  Nay,  I  see, 
across  this  black  deluge  of  Consecrated  Falsity,  the  world 
ripening  towards  glorious  new  developments,  unimagined 
hitherto, — of  which  this  abominable  mud-deluge  itself,  threat- 
ening to  submerge  us  all,  was  the  inevitable  precursor,  and 
the  means  decreed  by  the  Eternal.  If  it  please  Heaven,  we 
si  1  all  all  yet  make  our  Exodus  from  Houndsditch,  and  bid  the 
sordid  continents,  of  once  rich  apparel  now  grown  poisonous 
Ou'-clo\  a  mild  farewell !  Exodus  into  wider  horizons,  into 
God's  daylight  once  more;  where  eternal  skies,  measuring 
more  than  three  ells,  shall  again  overarch  us  ;  and  men,  im- 
measurably richer  for  having  dwelt  among  the  Hebrews,  shall 


JESUITISM. 


307 


pursue  their  human  pilgrimage,  St.  Ignatius  and  much  other 
saintship,  and  superstitious  terror  and  lumber,  lying  safe  be- 
hind us,  like  the  nightmares  of  a  sleep  that  is  past  !— 

I  said  the  virtue  of  obedience  was  not  to  be  found  except 
among  the  Jesuits  :  how,  in  fact,  among  the  Anti-Jesuits,  still 
in  a  revolutionary  posture  in  this  world,  can  you  expect  it? 
Sausculottism  is  a  rebel  ;  has  its  birth,  and  being,  in  open 
mutiny  ;  and  cannot  give  you  examples  of  obedience.  It  is  so 
with  several  other  virtues  and  cardinal  virtues  ;  they  seem  to 
have  vanished  from  the  world  ; — and  I  often  say  to  myself, 
Jesuitism  and  other  Superstitious  Scandals  cannot  go,  till  we 
have  read  and  appropriated  from  them  the  tradition  of  these 
lost  noblenesses,  and  once  more  under  the  new  conditions 
made  them  ours.  Jesuitism,  the  Papa  with  his  three  hats,  and 
whole  continents  of  chimerical  lumber  will  then  go  ;  their  er- 
rand being  wholly  done.  We  cannot  make  our  Exodus  from 
Houndsditch  till  we  have  got  our  own  along  with  us  !  The 
Jew  old-clothes  having  now  grown  fairly  pestilential,  a  poison- 
ous incumbrance  in  the  path  of  men,  burn  them  up  with  revo- 
lutionary fire,  as  you  like  and  can  :  even  so, — but  you  shall 
not  quit  the  place  till  you  have  gathered  from  their  ashes  what 
of  gold  or  other  enduring  metal  was  sewed  upon  them,  or 
woven  in  the  tissue  of  them.  That  is  the  appointed  course  of 
human  things. 

Here  are  two  excerpts  from  the  celebrated  Gathercoal,  a 
Yankee  friend  of  mine  ;  which  flash  strangely  a  kind  of  torch- 
gieam  into  the  hidden  depths ;  and  indicate  to  us  the  grave 
and  womb  of  Jesuitism,  and  of  several  other  things  : 

'  Moses  and  the  Jews  did  not  make  God's  Laws,'  exclaims 
he  ;  '  no,  by  no  means  ;  they  did  not  even  read  them  in  a  way 
that  has  been  final,  or  is  satisfactory  to  me  !  In  several  im- 
portant respects  I  find  said  reading  decidedly  bad  ;  and  will 
not,  in  any  wise,  think  of  adopting  it.  How  dare  I,  think 
you  ? — And  yet,  alas,  if  we  forget  to  read  these  Laws  at  all ; 
if  we  go  along  as  if  they  were  not  there ! 

'  My  enlightened  friends  of  this  present  supreme  age,  what 
shall  I  say  to  you  ?  That  Time  does  rest  on  Eternity  ;  that 
he  who  has  no  vision  of  Eternity  will  never  get  a  true  hold  of 


SOS 


LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS. 


Time,  or  its  affairs.  Time  is  so  constructed  ;  that  is  the  fact 
of  the  construction  of  this  world.  And  no  class  of  mortals 
who  have  not, — through  Nazareth  or  otherwise, — come  to  get 
heartily  acquainted  with  such  fact,  perpetually  familiar  with 
it  in  all  the  outs  and  ins  of  their  existence,  have  ever  found 
this  Universe  habitable  long,  Alas,  no  ;  their  fraternities, 
equalities,  free-trade  philosophies,  greatest-happiness  prin- 
ciples, soon  came  to  a  conclusion  ;  and  the  poor  creatures  had 
to  go, — to  the  Devil,  I  fear !  Generations  such  as  ours  play  a 
curious  part  in  World- History. 

'  They  sit  as  Apes  do  round  a  fire  in  the  woods,  but  know 
not  how  to  feed  it  with  fresh  sticks.  They  have  to  quit  it 
soon,  and  march — into  Chaos,  as  I  conjecture  ;  into  that  land 
of  which  Bedlam  is  the  Mount  Zion.  The  world  turns  out 
not  to  be  made  of  mere  eatables  and  drinkables,  of  newspaper 
puffs,  gilt  carriages,  conspicuous  flunkies  ;  no,  but  of  some- 
thing other  than  these !  Old  Suetonius  Romans,  corrupt 
babbling  Greeks  of  the  Lower  Empire,  examples  more  than 
one  :  consider  them  ;  be  taught  by  them,  add  not  to  the 
number  of  them.  Heroism,  not  the  apery  and  traditions  of 
Heroism  ;  the  feeling,  spoken  or  silent,  that  in  man's  life 
there  did  lie  a  Godlike,  and  that  his  Time-history  was  verily 
but  an  emblem  of  some  Eternal :  without  this  there  had  been 
no  Rome  either  ;  it  was  this  that  had  made  old  Rome,  old 
Greece,  and  old  Judea.  Apes,  with  their  wretched  blinking 
eyes,  squatted  round  a  fire  which  they  cannot  feed  with  new 
wood  ;  which  they  say  will  last  forever  without  new  wcod, — 
or,  alas,  which  they  say  is  going  out  forever :  it  is  a  sad 
sight ! ' 

Elsewhere  my  eccentric  friend,  as  some  call  him, — whose 
centre,  however,  I  think  I  have  got  into, — has  this  passage  : 

'  Church,  do  you  say  ?  Look  eighteen  hundred  years  ago, 
in  the  stable  at  Bethlehem  :  an  infant  laid  in  a  manger ! 
Look,  thou  ass,  and  behold  it  ;  it  is  a  fact, — the  most  indu- 
bitable of  facts:  thou  wilt  thereby  learn  innumerable  tilings. 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  and  the  life  he  led,  and  the  death  he  died, 
does  it  teach  thee  nothing?  Through  this,  as  through  a 
miraculous  window,  the  heaven  of  Martyr  Heroism,  the  "  di 


JESUITISM. 


309 


vine  depths  of  Sorrow,"  of  noble  Labour,  and  the  unspeak- 
able silent  expanses  of  Eternity,  first  in  man's  history  disclose 
themselves.  The  admiration  of  all  nobleness,  divine  tvorshij) 
of  godlike  nobleness,  how  universal  it  is  in  the  history  of 
man  ! 

'But  mankind,  that  singular  entity  mankind,  is  like  the 
fertilest,  fluidest,  most  wondrous  element,  an  element  in  which 
the  strangest  things  crystallise  themselves,  and  spread  out  in 
the  most  astounding  growths.  The  event  at  Bethlehem  was 
of  the  Year  One  ;  but  all  years  since  that,  eighteen  hundred 
of  them  now,  have  been  contributing  new  growth  to  it, — and 
see,  there  it  stands  :  the  Church  !  Touching  the  earth  with 
one  small  point  ;  springing  out  of  one  small  seedgrain,  rising 
out  therefrom,  ever  higher,  ever  broader,  high  as  the  Heaven 
itself,  broad  till  it  overshadow  the  whole  visible  Heaven  and 
Earth,  and  no  star  can  be  seen  but  through  it.  From  such  a 
seedgrain  so  has  it  grown  ;  planted  in  the  reverences  and 
sacred  opulences  of  the  soul  of  mankind ;  fed  continually  by 
all  the  noblenesses  of  some  forty  generations  of  men.  The 
world-tree  of  the  Nations  for  so  long  ! 

Alas,  if  its  roots  are  now  dead,  and  it  have  lost  hold  of  the 
firm  earth,  or  clear  belief  of  mankind, — what,  great  as  it  is, 
can  by  possibility  become  of  it?  Shaken  to  and  fro,  in  Jesuit- 
isms, Gorham  Controversies,  and  the  storms  of  inevitable 
Fate  it  must  sway  hither  and  thither  ;  nod  ever  farther  from 
the  perpendicular  ;  nod  at  last  too  far ;  and, — sweeping  the 
Eternal  Heavens  clear  of  its  old  brown  foliage  and  multi- 
tudinous rooks'-nests, — come  to  the  ground  with  much  con- 
fused crashing,  and  disclose  the  diurnal  and  nocturnal  Upper 
Lights  again  !  The  dead  world-tree  will  have  declared  itself 
dead.  It  will  lie  there  an  imbroglio  of  torn  boughs  and 
ruined  fragments,  of  bewildered  splittings  and  wide-spread 
shivers :  out  of  which  the  poor  inhabitants  must  make  what 
they  can  ! ' — Enough  now  of  Gathercoal  and  his  torch-gleams. 

Simple  souls  still  clamour  occasionally  for  what  they  call 
*  a  new  religion.'  My  friends,  you  will  not  get  this  new  relig. 
ion  of  yours  ; — I  perceive,  you  already  have  it,  have  always 


310 


LATTER- DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


had  it !  All  that  is  true  is  your  ' religion,' — is  it  not  ?  Com- 
manded by  the  Eternal  God  to  be  performed,  I  should  think, 
if  it  is  true  !  Do  you  not  already,  in  your  dim  heads,  know 
truths  by  the  thousand  ;  and  yet,  in  your  dead  hearts,  will 
you  perform  them  by  the  ten,  by  the  unit  ?  New  religion  ! 
One  last  word  with  you  on  this  rather  contemptible  subject ! 

You  say,  The  old  ages  had  a  noble  belief  about  the  world, 
and  therefore  were  capable  of  a  noble  activity  in  the  world. 
My  friends,  it  is  partly  true :  your  Scepticism  and  Jesuitism, 
your  ignoble  no-belief,  except  what  belief  a  beaver  or  judicious 
pig  were  capable  of,  is  too  undeniable  :  observe,  however,  that 
in  this  your  fatal  misery,  there  is  action  and  reaction  ;  and  do 
not  confound  the  one  with  the  other.  Put  the  thing  in  its 
right  posture  ;  cart  not  before  horse,  if  you  would  make  an 
effort  to  stir  from  this  fatal  spot !  It  is  your  own  falsity  that 
makes  the  Universe  incredible.  I  affirm  to  you,  this  Universe, 
in  all  times,  and  in  your  own  poor  time  as  well,  is  the  express 
image  and  direct  counterpart  of  the  human  souls,  and  their 
thoughts  and  activities,  who  dwell  there.  It  is  a  true  adage, 
'As  the  fool  thinks,  the  bell  clinks.'  'This  mad  Universe,' 
says  Novalis,  'is  the  waste  picture  of  your  own  dream.'  Be 
noble  of  mind,  all  Nature  gives  response  to  your  heroic  struggle 
for  recognition  by  her  ;  with  her  awful  eternal  voices  answers 
to  every  mind,  "Yea,  I  am  divine  ;  be  thou."  From  the  cloud- 
whirlwind  speaks  a  God  yet,  my  friend,  to  every  man  who  has 
a  human  soul.  To  the  inhuman  brute-soul,  indeed,  she  an- 
swers, "Yea,  I  am  brutal ;  a  big  cattle-stall,  rag-fair  and  St. 
Catherine's  wharf :  enter  thou,*  and  fat  victual,  if  thou  be 
faithful,  shall  not  fail." 

Not  because  Heaven  existed,  did  men  know  Good  from 
Evil  ;  the  '  because,'  I  invite  you  to  consider,  lay  quite  the 
other  way.  It  was  because  men,  having  hearts  as  well  as 
stomachs,  felt  there,  and  knew  through  all  their  being,  the 
difference  between  Good  and  Evil,  that  Heaven  and. Hell  first 
came  to  exist.  That  is  the  sequence  ;  that  and  not  the  con- 
trary. If  you  have  now  no  Heaven  to  look  to  ;  if  you  now 
sprawl,  lamed  and  lost,  sunk  to  the  chin  in  the  pathless  sloughs 
of  this  lower  world  without  guidance  from  above,  know  that 


JESUITISM. 


311 


the  fault  is  not  Heaven's  at  all ;  but  your  own  !  Our  poor 
friends  '  the  Apes  by  the  Dead  Sea '  have  now  no  Heaven 
either  ;  they  look  into  this  Universe  now,  and  find  it  tragically 
grown  to  be  the  Humbug  they  insisted  on  its  being.  Moses 
went  his  ways,  and  this  enchantment  fell  upon  them  !  Such 
•  enchantments '  rhadamanthine  Nature  does  yet  daily  execute 
on  the  rebellious  ;  he  that  has  eyes  may  still  daily  see  them, 
— fearful  and  wonderful  ever  as  of  old. 

How  can  you  believe  in  a  Heaven, — the  like  of  you  ?  What 
struggle  in  your  mean  existence  ever  pointed  thitherward? 
None.  The  first  heroic  soul  sent  down  into  this  world,  he, 
looking  up  into  the  sea  of  stars,  around  into  the  moaning 
forests  and  big  oceans,  into  life  and  death,  love  and  hate,  and 
joy  and  sorrow,  and  the  illimitable  loud-thundering  Loom  of 
Time, — was  struck  dumb  by  it  (as  the  thought  of  every  earnest 
soul  still  is) ;  and  fell  on  his  face,  and  with  his  heart  cried  for 
salvation  in  the  world-whirlpool :  to  him  the  '  open  secret  of 
this  Universe '  was  no  longer  quite  a  secret,  but  he  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of  it, — much  hidden  from  the  like  of  us  in  these 
times  :  "  Do  nobly,  thou  shalt  resemble  the  Maker  of  all  this ; 
do  ignobly,  the  Enemy  of  the  Maker."  This  is  the  'divine 
sense  of  Pdght  and  Wrong  in  man  ; '  true  reading  of  his  posi- 
tion in  this  Universe  forevermore  ;  the  indisputable  God's- 
message  still  legible  in  every  created  heart, — though  speedily 
erased  and  painted  over,  under  'articles,'  and  cants  and  empty 
ceremonials,  in  so  many  hearts ;  making  the  '  open  secret '  a 
very  shut  one  indeed  ! — 

My  friends,  across  these  fogs  of  murky  twaddle  and  phil- 
anthropism,  in  spite  of  sad  decadent  1  world- trees,'  with  their 
rookeries  of  foul  creatures, — the  silent  stars,  and  all  the  eternal 
luminaries  of  the  world,  shine  even  now  to  him  that  has  an  eye. 
In  this  day  as  in  all  days,  around  and  in  every  man,  are  voices 
from  the  gods,  imperative  to  all,  if  obeyed  by  even  none,  which 
say  audibly,  "Arise,  thou  son  of  Adam,  son  of  Time  ;  make 
this  thing  more  divine,  and  that  thing, — and  thyself,  of  all 
things  ;  and  work,  and  sleep  not ;  for  the  Night  cometh, 
wherein  no  man  can  work !  "  He  that  hath  an  ear  may  still 
hear. 


312 


LATTER-DAT  PAMPHLETS. 


Surely,  surely  this  ignoble  sluggishness,  sceptical  torpor, 
indifference  to  all  that  does  not  bear  on  Mammon  and  his  in- 
terests is  not  the  natural  state  of  human  creatures  ;  and  is  not 
doomed  to  their  final  one  !  Other  states  once  were,  or  there 
had  never  been  a  Society,  or  any  noble  thing,  among  us  at  all. 
Under  this  brutal  stagnancy  there  lies  painfully  imprisoned 
some  tendency  which  could  become  heroic. 

The  restless  gnawing  ennui  which,  like  a  dark  dim  ocean- 
flood,  communicating  with  the  Phlegethons  and  Stygian  deeps, 
begirdles  every  human  life  so  guided, — is  it  not  the  painful 
cry  even  of  that  imprisoned  heroism  ?  Imprisoned  it  will 
never  rest  ;  set  forth  at  present,  on  these  sad  terms,  it  cannot 
be.  You  unfortunates,  what  is  the  use  of  your  money-bags, 
of  your  territories,  funded  properties,  your  mountains  of  pos- 
sessions, equipments  and  mechanic  inventions,  which  the 
flunky  pauses  over,  awestruck,  and  almost  rises  into  epos  and 
prophecy  at  sight  of  ?  No  use,  or  less  than  none.  Your  skin 
is  covered,  and  your  digestive  and  other  bodily  apparatus  i9 
supplied  ;  and  you  have  but  to  wish  in  these  respects,  and 
more  is  ready  ;  and — the  Devils,  I  think,  are  quizzing  you. 
You  ask  for  '  happiness,'  "  O  give  me  happiness  !  " — and  they 
hand  you  ever  new  varieties  of  covering  for  the  skin,  ever  new 
kinds  of  supply  for  the  digestive  apparatus,  new  and  ever  new, 
worse  or  not  a  whit  better  than  the  old  ;  and — and — this  is 
your  '  happiness '  ?  As  if  you  were  sick  children  ;  as  if  you 
were  not  men,  but  a  kind  of  apes  ! 

I  rather  say,  be  thankful  for  your  ennui  ;  it  is  your  last 
mark  of  manhood  ;  this  at  least  is  a  perpetual  admonition,  and 
true  sermon  preached  to  you.  From  the  chair  of  verity  this, 
whatever  chairs  be  chairs  of  cantity.  Happiness  is  not  come, 
nor  like  to  come  ;  ennui,  with  its  great  waste  ocean-voice, 
moans  answer,  Never,  never.  That  ocean-voice,  I  tell  you,  is 
a  great  fact,  it  comes  from  Phlegethon  and  the  gates  of  the 
Abyss  ;  its  bodeful  never-resting  inexorable  moan  is  the  voice 
of  primeval  Fate,  and  of  the  eternal  necessity  of  things.  Will 
you  shake  away  your  nightmare  and  arise  ;  or  must  you  lie 
writhing  under  it,  till  death  relieve  you  ?  Unfortunate  creat- 
ures !  You  are  fed,  clothed,  lodged  as  men  never  were  before  ; 


JESUITISM. 


313 


every  clay  in  new  variety  of  magnificence  are  you  equipped 
and  attended  to  ;  such  wealth  of  material  means  as  is  now 
yours  was  never  dreamed  of  by  man  before  : — and  to  do  any 
noble  thing,  with  all  this  mountain  of  implements,  is  forever 
denied  you.  Only  ignoble,  expensive  and  unfruitful  things  can 
you  now  clo  ;  nobleness  has  vanished  from  the  sphere  where 
you  live.  The  way  of  it  is  lost ;  the  possibility  of  it  has  be- 
come incredible.  We  must  try  to  do  without  it,  I  am  told. — 
Well ;  rejoice  in  your  upholsteries  and  cookeries,  then,  if  so 
be  they  will  make  you  '  happy.'  Let  the  varieties  of  them  be 
continual  and  innumerable.  In  all  things  let  perpetual  change, 
if  that  is  a  perpetual  blessing  to  you,  be  your  portion  instead 
of  mine  ;  incur  that  Prophet's  curse,  and  in  all  things  in  this 
sublunary  world  'make  yourselves  like  unto  a  wheel.'  Mount 
into  your  railways  ;  whirl  from  place  to  place,  at  the  rate  of 
fifty,  or  if  you  like  of  five  hundred  miles  an  hour  :  you  cannot 
escape  from  that  inexorable  all-encircling  ocean-moan  of  ennui. 
No  :  if  you  would  mount  to  the  stars,  and  do  yacht-voyages 
under  the  belts  of  Jupiter,  or  stalk  deer  on  the  ring  of  Saturn,  v- 
it  would  still  begirdle  you.  You  cannot  escape  from  it,  you 
can  but  change  your  place  in  it,  without  solacement  except 
one  moment's.  That  prophetic  Sermon  from  the  Deeps  will 
continue  with  you,  till  you  wisely  interpret  it  and  do  itt  or  else 
till  the  Crack  of  Doom  swallow  it  and  you.  Adieu ;  Au  re« 
voir. 


SUMMAEY. 


NO.  I.    THE  PRESENT  TIME. 

The  Present  ever  a  £  New  Era '  to  the  thinking  man  :  To  know  it, 
and  what  it  bids  us  do,  the  sum  of  knowledge  for  us  all.  Judicial  blind- 
ness. Our  own  days :  If  not  days  of  endless  hope  too,  then  are  they 
days  of  utter  despair,  (p.  5.) — A  Reforming  Pope,  and  the  huge  unre- 
formable  Popedom.  The  Sicilians  first  to  follow  the  poor  Pope's  exam- 
ple. French  exasperation  and  emulation.  European  explosion,  bound- 
less, uncontrollable  :  All  Kings  conscious  they  are  but  Playactors.  A 
weltering  mob,  presided  over  by  M.  de  Lamartine.  A  changed  time 
since  the  word  Senior  was  first  devised  to  signify  Superior.  (6.) — Uni- 
versal Democracy,  an  inevitable  fact  of  the  days  we  live  in  :  Whence 
comes  it  ?  whither  goes  it  ?  What  is  the  meaning  of  it  ? — High  shouts 
of  exultation  from  the  universal  foolish  human  throat ;  drowning  for 
the  moment  all  reflection  whatsoever.  Bankruptcy  of  Imposture  :  At 
all  costs,  it  is  to  be  prayed  by  all  men  that  Shams  may  cease.  Heavy- 
side,  and  his  quiet  blasphemy.  Democracy  not  a  Government ;  nor 
Parliament  a  practical  substitute  for  a  King.  Unanimity  of  1  voting  ' 
will  do  nothing  for  us,  if  the  voting  happen  to  be  wrong.  A  divine 
message,  or  eternal  regulation  of  the  Universe,  there  verily  is,  in  regard 
to  every  conceivable  procedure  of  man.  Universal  Suffrage,  and  the 
Ballot-box.  (12.) — The  ancient  Republics,  now  pretty  well  admitted  to 
be  nothing  to  our  purpose.  One  modern  instance  of  Democracy,  '  nearly 
perfect : '  The  Republic  of  the  United  States.  America  too  will  have 
to  strain  her  energies,  in  quite  other  fashion  than  this  :  America's  Bat- 
tle is  yet  to  fight.  Mere  Democracy  forever  impossible  :  The  Universe 
Itself  a  Monarchy  and  Hierarchy.  God  Almighty's  Noble  in  the  su- 
preme place, — under  penalties.  Everlasting  privilege  of  the  Foolish,  to 
be  governed  and  guided  by  the  Wise  :  Intrinsically,  the  harshest  duty 
a  wise  man,  if  he  be  indeed  wise,  has  laid  to  his  hand.  (21.) — The  new 
Sacrament  of  Divorce,  called  '  enfranchisement,'  '  emancipation.'  West- 
Indian  Blacks  and  Irish  Whites  :  Horses  and  Jialf -brothers  ;  The  fate  of 
all  emancipated  Helplessness,  sooner  or  later,  tragically  inevitable, 
British  industrial  existence  fast  becoming  one  huge  poison -swamp  of 


316 


SUMMARY. 


reeking  pestilence :  Thirty-thousand  outcast,  ungoverned,  unguided 
Needlewomen.  Constituted  Anarchy  :  '  British  Liberty,'  and  what  it  is 
doing  for  us.  (27.) — England  and  her  Constitution,  the  model  of  the 
world  :  At  once  unattainable  by  the  world,  and  not  worth  attaining. 
Called  a  '  second  time  '  to  show  the  Nations  how  to  live.  England's  one 
hope  :  Many  Kings,  not  needing  '  election  '  to  command  :  Poor  England 
never  so  needed  them  as  now.  The  true  '  commander '  and  King  :  Not 
quite  discoverable  by  riddling  of  the  popular  clamour.  The  fateful 
Hebrew  Prophecy,  sounding  daily  through  our  streets.  In  regard  to 
choice  of  men,  next  to  no  capability  on  the  part  of  universal  suffrage. 
The  few  Wise  will  have,  by  one  method  or  another,  to  take,  and  to  keep, 
command  of  the  innumerable  Foolish.  (32.) — Captains  of  Industry  :  Or- 
ganisation of  Labour,  the  new  strange  task  which  no  Government  can 
much  longer  escape.  Speech  of  the  British  Prime  Minister  to  his  Pau- 
per Populations  and  the  Respectable  Professors  of  the  Dismal  Science. 
Alas,  there  are  things  that  should  be  done,  not  spoken  ;  that  till  the  do- 
ing of  them  is.  begun,  cannot  be  spoken.  (37. ) 


No.  II.    MODEL  PRISONS. 

The  deranged  condition  of  our  affairs  :  Two  ways  of  proceeding  in  re- 
gard to  them  :  Selfish  indifference,  and  self-lauding  philanthropy.  In- 
discriminate mashing-up  of  Right  and  Wrong,  ending  in  a  Fraternity 
like  Cain's,  (p.  48.) — A  London  Prison  of  the  exemplary  or  model  kind. 
Certain  Chartist  Notabilities  undergoing  their  term.  The  Captain  of  the 
place,  a  true  aristos  and  commander  of  men.  His  problem  to  drill 
twelve-hundred  scoundrels  to  do  nothing,  by  '  the  method  of  kindness.1 
Happy  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line,  what  soldier  to  any  earthly  or  ce- 
lestial Power  has  such  lodging  and  attendance  as  you  here  !  Certainly 
it  should  not  be  the  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line,  that  a  servant  of  God 
would  first  of  all  concentrate  his  attention  on.  Precisely  the  worst  in- 
vestment for  Benevolence  that  human  ingenuity  could  select.  The 
highest  and  best  investment  :  Solemn  Shams  and  Supreme  Quacks,  rid- 
ing prosperously  in  every  thoroughfare.  (52.) — Howard  the  Philanthro- 
pist, a  sort  of  beatified  individual  :  A  dull  practical  solid  man,  full  of 
English  accuracy  and  veracity.  Not  the  only  benefactor  that  has 
worked  without  money  for  us  :  The  Destinies  opulent.  Milton,  Kepler, 
Dante.  Cholera  Doctors  ;  Soldiers  :  Human  virtue,  if  we  went  down  to 
the  roots  of  it,  not  so  rare.  Woe  to  us,  it  is  so  seldom  elaborated,  and 
built  into  a  result !  The  Benevolent-Platform  Fever,  and  general  mor- 
bid sympathy,  instead  of  hearty  hatred,  for  scoundrels.  Brotherhood  ? 
Be  the  thought  far  from  me.  Beautiful  Black  Peasantry,  fallen  idle : 
Interesting  White  Felonry,  not  idle.  What  a  reflection,  that  we  cannot 
bestow  on  an  unworthy  man  any  particle  of  our  '  benevolence,'  without 


SUMMARY. 


317 


withdrawing  it  from  one  to  whom  it  of  right  belongs !  One  thing  need- 
ful for  the  world  ;  but  that  one  indispensable  :  Give  us  Justice,  and  we 
live ;  give  us  only  counterfeits  or  succedanea,  and  we  die.  Modern 
ghastly  Phantasm  of  Christianity,  which  they  sing  litanies  to  at  Exeter 
Hall  and  elsewhere.  Poor  old  Genius  of  Reform,  and  his  Program  of 
a  new  Era.  (61.) — Christian  Religion,  and  its  healthy  hatred  of  Scoun- 
drels :  From  the  Christianity  of  Oliver  Cromwell  to  that  of  Mr.  Hespe- 
rus Fiddlestring,  what  a  road  have  we  travelled  !  Gospel  according  to 
the  Platform  ;  Exeat  Fiddlestring.  Poor  creatures,  making  and  un- 
making 1  Laws,'  in  whose  souls  is  no  image  or  thought  of  Heaven's  Law  : 
Human  Statute-books,  growing  horrible  to  think  of.  (68.) — What  to  do 
with  our  criminals  ? — An  official  Law-dignitary's  bland  perplexity,  and 
placid  discomfiture.  Wonderful  to  hear  what  account  we  give  of  the 
punishment  of  our  criminals:  No  'revenge  ;'  O  Heavens,  no! — Cant 
moral,  Cant  religious,  Cant  political.  Hunger-stricken  asphyxied  hearts, 
calling  themselves  'Christian.'  Woe  to  the  People  that  no  longer  ven- 
erate, as  the  emblem  of  God  himself,  the  aspect  of  Human  Worth! 
The  true  ground  on  which  to  deliberately  slay  a  disarmed  fellow-man  : 
'  Revenge,' and  the  ineradicable  tendency  to  revanclier  oneself  on  the 
wrong-doer,  to  pay  him-  what  he  has  merited.  How  it  shall  be  done  ? 
a  vast  question,  involving  immense  considerations.  Terrible  penalties 
of  neglecting  to  treat  hero  as  hero,  and  scoundrel  as  scoundrel :  Dim 
oblivion  of  Right  and  Wrong  :  World-wide  maddening  Misery  :  New 
astonishing  Phallus-Worship,  and  universal  Sacrament  of  Divorce.  (70.) 
— The  Ancient  Germans,  and  their  grim  public  executions.  Scoundrel 
is  scoundrel ;  and  no  soft  blubbering  and  litanying  over  him  can  make 
him  a  friend  of  this  Universe.  A  '  didactic  sermon,'  as  no  spoken  ser- 
mon could  be.  Except  upon  a  basis  of  just  rigour,  sorrowful,  silent,  in- 
exorable, no  true  Pity  possible.  (79.) — A  worst  man  in  England, — curi- 
ous to  think  of, — whom  it  would  be  inexpressibly  advantageous  to  lay 
hold  of,  and  hang,  first  of  all  :  Alas,  our  supreme  scoundrel,  alike  with 
our  supreme  hero,  very  far  from  being  known.  Parliament,  in  its 
lawmakings,  must  really  try  to  obtain  some  vision  again.  Let  us  to 
the  wellheads,  to  the  Chief  Fountains  of  these  waters  of  bitterness  ;  and 
there  strike  home  and  dig  !  (80.) 


No.  III.    DOWNING  STREET. 

Ineffectually  of  our  Redtape  Establishments.  The  Colonial  Office,  a 
world-wide  jungle,  inhabited  by  doleful  creatures,  deaf  or  nearly  so  to 
human  reason  and  entreaty.  Foreign  Office  and  Home  Office  perhaps 
even  more  impracticable :  Hercules-Harlequin,  the  Attorney  Triumphant, 
the  World's  Busybody, — these  not  the  parts  this  Nation  has  a  turn  for. 
Proposed  curtailments,  rectifications  and  reformations,  (p.  84.) — Eng* 


318 


SUMMARY, 


land's  forlorn  hope  in  Sir  Robert  Peel :  The  one  likely  or  possible  man. 
A  Reformed  Executive  in  Downing  Street :  Not  a  better  Talking- Appa- 
ratus, but  an  infinitely  better  Acting- Apparatus  the  thing  wanted.  The 
Irish  Giant  advancing  unheeded  upon  London  itself.  (88.)— Two  kinds 
of  fundamental  error  in  our  Government  Offices :  The  work  ill-done ; 
and,  what  is  still  fataler,  the  wrong  kind  of  work.  For  such  elaborated 
Idleness  a  stupid  subaltern  better  than  a  gifted  one.  O  for  an  eye  that 
could  see  in  those  hideous  mazes,  and  a  heart  that  could  dare  and  do ! 
(91.) — What  the  British  Nation  at  this  time  really  wants.  If  our  Gov- 
ernment is  to  be  a  No-Government,  what  matter  who  administers  it  ? 
The  real  Nimrod  of  this  era  the  rat-catcher.  The  mighty  question 
Who  is  to  be  our  Premier,  and  take  in  hand  the  1  spigot  of  taxation '  ? 
Right  Honourable  Zero,  on  his  Sleswick  thunder-horse.  Who  made 
those  Downing-Street  Offices  ?  No  edifice  of  State  that  stands  long,  but 
has  had  the  wise  and  brave  contributing  their  lives  to  it.  William  Con- 
qneror's  Home  Office.  An  English  Seventy-four,  and  the  old  Seakings 
and  Saxon  Pirates.  (95.) — '  Human  Stupidity '  the  accursed  parent  of  all 
our  sorrows.  Practical  reverence  for  Human  Worth  the  outcome  and 
essence  of  all  true  '  religions  '  whatsoever.  Human  Intellect,  the  exact 
summary  of  Human  Worth.  Abler  men  in  Downing  Street  ;  that,  sure 
enough,  would  gradually  remedy  whatsoever  has  gone  wrong  amongst 
us.  The  divinest,  most  Herculean  Ten  Men  to  be  found  among  the  Eng- 
lish Twenty-seven  Millions.  Courage  ;  let  us  strive  all  thitherward  as 
towards  a  door  of  hope  !  One  Intellect  still  really  human,  not  to  be  dis- 
pensed with  anywhere  in  the  affairs  of  men:  Only  Wisdom,  that  can 
recognise  wisdom,  and  attract  it,  as  with  divine  magnetism,  from  the 
modest  corners  where  it  lies  hid.  (100.) — To  increase  the  supply  of  hu- 
man Intellect  in  Downing  Street,  what  '  method  '  alas !  One  small  Proj- 
ect of  Improvement :  Government  Servants  to  be  selected  without  ref- 
erence to  their  power  of  getting  into  Parliament :  The  Crown  to  have 
power  to  elect  a  few  members.  Beneficent  germs,  which  one  truly  wise 
man  as  Chief  Minister  might  ripen  into  living  practices,  invaluable  to  us 
all.  A  population  counting  by  Millions  from  which  to  choose,  were  a 
seat  in  Parliament  not  primary  :  Robert  Burns.  All  true  1  Democracy  ' 
in  tliis,  that  the  able  man  be  chosen,  in  whatever  rank  he  be  found  :  A 
truer  and  truer  'Aristocracy,'  or  Government  of  the  Best.  (107.) — One 
true  Reforming  Statesman  ;  he  the  preliminary  of  all  good.  A  strange 
feeling,  to  be  at  the  apex  of  English  affairs.  This  world,  solid  as  it 
Ijoks,  made  all  of  aerial  and  even  of  spiritual  stuff.  This  and  the  other 
Premier  seems  to  take  it  with  perfect  coolness:  Reflections,  sufficient  to 
annihilate  any  man,  almost  before  starting  !  Ask  well,  who  is  your 
Chief  Governor,  for  around  him  men  like  to  him  will  infallibly  gather. 
Time  was  when  an  incompetent  Governor  could  not  be  permitted  among 
men.  (115.) 


SUMMARY. 


319 


No.  IV.    THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 

How  the  European  Governments  came  to  wreck  for  want  of  Intellect 
No  evil,  or  solecism  against  Nature,  ever  yet  wrought  its  own  cure.  In- 
tellect has  to  govern,  and  will  do  it  ;  if  not  in  alliance,  then  in  hostil- 
ity :  Every  Government  absolves  or  convicts  itself,  before  God  and  man, 
according  as  it  determines  which,  (p.  120.)— The  old  Catholic  Church, 
in  its  terrestrial  relations  to  the  State  :  Everywhere  a  road  upwards  for 
human  nobleness  lay  wide  open  to  all  men.  Over  Europe  generally  the 
State  has  died  ;  incapable  in  these  years  of  any  but  galvanic  life.  The 
kind  of  heroes  that  come  mounted  on  the  shoulders  of  universal  suf- 
frage. England  called  as  no  Nation  ever  was,  to  summon  out  its  Kings, 
and  set  them  to  their  work  :  A  New  Downing  Street,  inhabited  by  the 
gifted;  directing  all  its  energies  upon  real  and  living  interests.  (124.) — 
The  notion  that  Government  can  do  nothing  but  '  keep  the  peace. '  To 
be  governed  by  small  men,  profess  subjection  to  phantasms,  not  only  a 
misfortune,  kut  a  curse  and  sin.  Indigent  Millionaires,  and  their  owl- 
dreams  of  Political  Economy.  Only  the  man  of  worth  can  recognise 
worth  in  men.  How  a  New  Downing  Street  might  gradually  come. 
(129.) — The  Foreign  Office,  in  its  reformed  state:  Insignificance  of  re- 
cent European  Wars.  Our  War-soldiers  Industrial ;  doing  nobler  than 
Roman  works,  when  fighting  is  not  wanted  of  them.  Ministers  of 
Works,  of  Justice,  of  Education  :  Tomorrow  morning  they  might  all  be- 
gin Vo  be  !  (136.) — Constitutions  for  the  Colonies,  now  on  the  anvil :  '  So 
many  as  are  for  rebelling,  hold  up  your  hands  ! '  Our  brave  fathers,  by 
valiant  blood  and  sweat,  gained  for  us  rich  possessions  in  all  zones ;  and 
we,  wretched  imbeciles,  cannot  do  the  function  of  administering  them. 
Miserabler  theory  than  that  of  money  on  the  ledger  for  the  primary  rule 
of  Empires,  cannot  well  be  propounded :  England  will  not  readily  ad- 
mit that  her  own  children  are  worth  nothing  but  to  be  flung  out  of  doors. 
Canadian  Parliaments,  and  Lumber-log  Governors.  Choose  well  your 
Governor  ;  and  having  found  him,  keep  him.  (140.) — The  Home  Office,  % 
undoubtedly  our  grand  primary  concern.  Were  all  men  doing  the1? 
duty,  or  even  seriously  trying  to  do  it,  there  would  be  no  Pauper  :  Pau- 
perism, our  Social  Sin  grown  manifest.  Our  Public  Life  and  our  Pri- 
vate, our  State  and  our  Religion,  a  tissue  of  half-truths  and  whole-lies: 
Cicero's  Roman  Augurs  and  their  divine  chicken-bowels  :  Despicable 
amalgam  of  true  and  false.  A  complete  course  of  scuvengerism,  the 
thing  needed.  The  State,  as  it  gets  into  the  track  of  its  real  work,  will 
find  it  expand  into  whole  continents  of  new  activity  :  The  want  of  wants, 
more  indispensable  than  any  jewel  in  the  crown,  that  of  men  able  to 
command  men  in  the  ways  of  welldoing.  (148  ) — Waste-land  Industrials 
succeeding,  other  kinds  of  Industry  will  be  found  capable  of  regiment- 
ing.   He  is  a  good  man  that  can  command  and  obey  ;  he  that  cannot  is 


320 


SUMMARY. 


a  bad.  Etons  and  Oxfords,  with  their  broken  crumbs  of  mere  speech, ' 
Our  next  set  of  Souls'  Overseers,  perhaps  silent  very  mainly.  Who  of 
living  statesmen  will  begin  the  long  steep  journey  of  Reform  ?  Sir  Rob- 
ert Peel  at  his  '  eleventh  hour.'    Still  fataler  omens.  (157.) 


No.  V.  STUMP-ORATOR. 

Our  deep-rooted  habit  of  considering  human  talent  as  best  of  all  evinc- 
ing itself  in  eloquent  speech  :  Such  a  test  liable  to  become  the  very 
worst  ever  devised.  Hard  sayings  for  many  a  British  reader  :  The  talker 
established  in  the  place  of  honour  ;  and  the  Doer  lost  and  lamed  in  the 
obscure  crowd.  Eloquence,  and  the  part  it  now  plays  in  our  affairs,  one 
of  the  gravest  phenomena,  (p.  161.) — Universities  and  Schools  in  the 
old  healthy  Ages :  The  Working  Man  ;  Priest ;  young  Noble  :  The  one 
Eure  method  of  learning  anything,  practical  apprenticeship  to  it.  Not 
that  he  may  speak,  but  that  he  may  have  something  to  speak  of,  the 
first  need  of  a  man.  Every  word,  either  a  note  or  a  forged-note.  Do 
yon  want  a  man  not  to  practice  what  he  believes,  then  encourage  him  to 
speak  it  often  in  words  :  The  serviceable  thing, — to  clip-off  a  bit  of  his 
eloquent  tongue.  What  the  art  of  speech  should  be,  and  should  not  be. 
(166.) — Vital  lungs  of  Society:  Methods  by  which  men  rise  ;  and  the 
kind  of  men.  The  country  that  can  offer  no  career,  a  doomed  country  ; 
nay  already  dead.  Our  English  careers  to  born  genius  twofold  :  Silent 
or  unlearned  career  of  Industrialisms :  Articulate  or  learned  career  of 
the  three  Professions.  To  the  gifted  soul,  not  of  taciturn,  bearer  nature, 
the  field  in  England  narrow  and  surprising  to  an  extreme  :  The  solitary 
proof-feat  of  talk,  getting  rather  monotonous.  Medicine,  and  its  fright- 
ful medusa-heads  of  quackery  :  The  profession  of  Human  Healer  radi- 
cally a  sacred  one.  Law  and  Church:  Ingenuous  souls  jxist  now  shudder 
at  the  threshold  of  both  these  careers.  Parliament,  and  its  unquestioned 
eligibility,  if  attainable.  Crowded  portal  of  Literature  :  Haven  of  ex- 
patriated spiritualisms,  vanities  and  prurient  imbecilities.  Talk  with 
tongue  or  pen ;  there  is  in  our  England  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  that 
one  method  of  emergence  and  no  other.  (172.) — Not  even  in  Parliament 
should  the  essential  function  by  any  means  be  talk.  Wisdom  intrinsi- 
cally of  silent  nature.  Politeness,  and  breeding  to  business :  How  po- 
liteness was  invented :  Johnson,  Burns.  Parliament,  as  a  school  of  man- 
ners: Seeking  salvation  in  '  appearances.'  A  parliamentary  bagpipe,  and 
your  living  man  fled  away  without  return.  (182.) — Nature  admits  no  lie : 
Most  men  profess  to  be  aware  of  this,  but  few  in  any  manner  lay  it  to 
heart.  Diagnosis  of  a  Lie,  and  Liar.  Fail,  by  any  sin  or  misfortuno, 
to  discover  what  the  truth  of  a  fact  is,  you  are  lost  so  far  as  that  fact 
goes :  Unfortunate  British  Parliament.  Nature's  silent  exact  Savings'- 
bank,  and  official  register,  correct  to  the  most  evanescent  item :  Creditor, 


SUMMARY. 


321 


"by  the  quantity  of  veracities  we  have  done  ;  Debtor,  by  the  quantity  of 
falsities  and  errors.  The-practice  of  modern  Parliaments,  with  Report- 
ers sitting  among  them.  (188.) — A  benevolent  plan  of  reform  for  our  be- 
nighted world  :  At  least  one  generation  to  pass  its  life  in  silence.  Good 
Heavens,  if  such  a  plan  were  practicable,  how  the  chaff  might  be  win- 
nowed-out  of  every  man  and  thing  ! — Eye-service,  our  saddest  woe  of 
all.  '  Public-speaking,'  '  parliamentary  eloquence,'  a  Moloch  before 
whom  young  souls  are  made  to  pass  through  the  fire, — to  come  out  spir- 
itually dead.  Be  not  a  Public  Orator,  thou  brave  young  British  man  ; 
not  a  Stump-Orator,  if  thou  canst  help  it :  To  speak,  or  to  write,  Nature 
did  not  peremptorily  order  thee  ;  but  to  work  she  did.  (197.) 


No.  VI.  PARLIAMENTS. 

The  present  Editor  not  one  of  those  who  expect  to  see  the  Country 
saved  by  farther  'reforming  '  the  reformed  Parliament  we  have  got.  If 
the  captains  of  the  ship  are  of  that  scandalous  class  who  refuse  to  be 
warned,  what  are  the  miserable  crew  to  do  ?  (p.  200.)  The  English 
Parliament,  windy  and  empty  as  it  has  grown  to  be,  at  one  time  a  quite 
solid  serious  actuality  :  King  Rufus  and  his  Barons  :  The  time  of  the 
Edwards,  when  Parliament  gradually  split  itself  into  Two  Houses,  The 
Long  Parliament  the  first  that  declared  itself  Sovereign  in  the  Nation. 
A  sad  gradual  falling-off  in  modern  Parliaments  :  A  solemn  Convocation 
of  all  the  Stump-Orators  in  the  Nation,  to  come  and  govern  us,  not  seen 
in  the  earth  until  recently.  (202.)  Two  grand  modern  facts,  which  have 
altered  from  top  to  bottom  the  function  and  position  of  all  Parliaments. 
An  Unfettered  Press  :  Not  the  discussion  of  questions,  only  the  ultimate 
voting  of  them,  requires  to  go  on,  or  can  veritably  go  on,  in  St.  Stephen's 
now.  Still  more  important  the  question,  King  present  there,  or  no 
King  ?  Not  as  a  Sovereign  Ruler  of  the  Twenty-seven  million  British 
souls  has  the  reformed  Parliament  distinguished  itself  as  yet.  Another 
most  unfortunate  condition,  that  your  Parliamentary  Assembly  is  not 
much  in  earnest  to  do  even  the  best  it  can.  Parliaments,  admirable 
only  as  Advising  Bodies.  United  States.  Only  two  Parliaments  of  any 
actual  Sovereignty:  The  English  Long  Parliament,  and  the  French 
Convention.  The  horoscope  of  Parliaments  by  no  means  cheering  at 
present :  The  thing  we  vitally  need,  not  a  more  and  more  perfectly 
elected  Parliament,  but  some  reality  of  a  Ruling  Sovereign  to  preside 
over  Parliament.  (206.) — Poor  human  beings,  whose  practical  belief  is, 
that  if  we  '  vote  '  this  or  that,  so  this  or  that  will  henceforth  be.  Blun- 
dering, impious,  pretended  'laws:  '  Is  arithmetic  a  thing  more  fixed  by 
the  Eternal  than  the  laws  of  justice  are  ?  Eternal  Law,  silently  present 
everywhere  and  everywhen.  '  Voting '  a  thing  of  little  value  at  any 
time  :  If  of  ten  men,  nine  are  recognizable  as  fools,  how  will  you  ever 
21 


322 


SUMMARY. 


get  a  ballot-box  to  grind-out  a  wisdom  from  their  (  votes '  ?  (219.) — Under 
whatever  Reformed  Downing  Street  England  be  governed,  its  Parliament 
too  will  continue  indispensable :  We  must  set  it  to  its  real  function  ; 
and,  at  our  peril  and  its,  restrict  it  to  that.  Necessary  to  the  King  or 
Governor  to  know  what  the  mass  of  men  think  upon  public  questions: 
He  may  thus  choose  his  path  with  prudence  ;  and  reach  his  aim  surely, 
if  more  slowly.  The  Leming-rat,  and  its  rigidly  straight  course  no* 
whither.  The  mass  of  men  consulted  at  the  hustings  upon  any  high 
matter,  as  ugly  an  exhibition  of  human  stupidity  as  this  world  sees. 
The  vulgarest  vulgar,  not  those  in  ragged  coats  at  this  day  ;  the  more  the 
pity.  Of  what  use  toward  the  finding-out  what  it  is  wise  to  do  can  the 
'  fool's  vote '  be  ?  You  have  to  apprise  the  unwise  man  of  his  road, 
even  as  you  do  the  unwiser  horse.  Memorable  minorities,  and  even 
small  ones :  Cromwell  and  his  Puritans  :  Tancred  of  Hauteville's  sons. 
Unit  of  that  class,  against  as  many  zeros  as  you  like.  (223.) — What  is  to 
become  of  Parliament,  less  a  question  than  what  is  to  become  of  Down- 
ing Street.  Who  is  slave,  and  eternally  appointed  to  be  governed  ;  who 
free,  and  eternally  appointed  to  govern.  Could  we  entirely  exclude  the 
slave's  vote,  and  admit  only  the  heroic  free  man's  vote,  the  ultimate 
New  Era,  and  best  possible  condition  of  human  affairs,  had  actually 
come.  New  definitions  of  slavery,  and  of  freedom.  To  the  Free  Man 
belongs  eternally  the  government  of  the  world.  (232), 


No.  VII.    HUDSON'S  STATUE. 

The  question  '  Shall  Cromwell  have  a  Statue  ?  '  A  People  worthy  to 
build  Statues  to  Cromwell ;  or  worthy  only  of  doing  it  to  Hudson. 
Show  the  man  you  honour  ;  and  you  show  what  your  Ideal  of  Manhood 
is,  what  kind  of  man  you  long  inexpressibly  to  be.  Pity  Hudson's 
Statue  was  not  completed  and  set  up,  so  that  all  the  world  might  see  it : 
The  practical  English  mind  has  its  own  notions  of  the  Supreme  Excel- 
lence ;  and  in  this  of  Hudson  there  was  more  of  real  worship  than  is 
usual,  (p.  237.)  If  the  world  were  not  properly  anarchic,  this  question 
of  a  Statue  would  be  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  solemn  for  it:  Not 
lightly  will  a  man  give  his  1  reverence,'  if  he  be  still  a  man.  A  Hier- 
archy of  Beneficences ;  the  noblest  man  at  the  summit  of  affairs,  and  in 
every  place  the  due  gradation  of  the  fittest  for  the  place:  All  hangs 
upon  giving  our  approval  aright.  How  Statues  are  now  got  up.  (240.) 
— Dismal,  symbolic  population  of  British  Statues :  The  kind  of  Aristocracy 
Popular  Suffrage  would  choose  for  us.  Hudson  a  King,  '  elected  by  th« 
people,'  as  none  other  is  or  was :  Hisvalue  as  a  demigod  ;  as  a  maker  of 
railways.  Answer  to  Jefferson  Brick,  the  American  Editor,  touching 
overgrown  worthless  Dukes,  and  undurgrown  incredible  Bishops :  Our 


SUMMARY. 


323 


ugliest  anomalies,  done  by  universal  suffrage,  not  by  patent :  Bobus  of 
Hounclsditch.  This  universal  ousting  of  imaginary  Governors,  to  issue 
in  the  attainment  of  Governors  who  have  a  right  and  a  capacity  to 
govern.  Ballot-box  and  suffrage  'machine.'  Alas,  could  we  once  get 
Laws  which  were  just:  The  Bravest  of  existing  Men  on  the  throne  ;  and 
on  the  gibbet  the  veritable  Supreme  Scoundrel  of  the  Commonwealth. 
Universal  suffrage  equivalent  to  abject  helplessness  and  flat  despair. 
Peace  ?  Better  war  to  the  knife,  war  till  we  all  die,  than  such  a 
£ peace  '  !  (246.) — Hero-worship:  This  Universe  wholly,  this  temporary 
Flame-image  of  the  Eternal,  one  beautiful  and  terrible  Energy  of 
Heroisms  ;  presided  over  by  a  Divine  Nobleness,  or  Infinite  Hero. 
Hypocritical  Idolatries :  Sets  of  gods  or  fetishes,  to  which  prayers  are 
mumbled  ;  while  the  real  worship,  or  heart's  love  and  admiration,  is 
elsewhere.  Whom  do  you  in  your  very  soul  admire,  and  strive  to 
imitate  and  emulate  ;  is  it  God's  servant  or  the  Devil's  ?  There  is  no 
other  '  religion '  in  the  man,  of  the  slightest  moment  compared  with 
this:  Immense  asthmatic  spiritual  Hurdygurdy.  It  was  not  'always 
Eo,'  and  even  till  lately  was  never  so.  (257.) — Collin's  dull  old  Peerage- 
Book,  properly  all  we  English  have  for  a  National  Bible:  Of  these  an- 
cient peerages,  a  very  great  majority  visibly  had  authentic  '  heroes  '  for 
their  founders.  One's  heart  is  sore  to  think  how  far,  how  very  far  all 
this  has  vanished  from  us  Our  one  steady  regulated  supply,  the  class 
definable  as  Supreme  Stump-Orators  in  the  Lawyer  department.  Eng- 
land once  a  Hierarchy :  To  the  English  modern  populations,  Supreme 
Hero  and  Supreme  Scoundrel,  perhaps  as  nearly  as  is  possible  to  human 
creatures,  indistinguishable.  (262.) — High  columns,  raised  by  prurient 
stupidity  and  publio  delusion  to  gamblers  and  blockheads.  The  so- 
called  Christian  Clerus  :  Brave  men  many  of  them,  after  their  sort ;  and 
in  a  position  which  we  may  admit  to  be  wonderful  and  dreadful.  But 
as  to  Statues,  and  the  mischief  tJiey  are  doing,  the  Woods-and-Forests 
really  ought  to  interfere.  (268.) 


No.  VILL  JESUITISM. 

For  some  two  centuries  past,  the  genius  of  mankind  dominated  by  the 
gospel  of  Ignatius.  What  the  English  reader  may  think  of  it,  and  of  his 
share  in  it.  The  Spiritual,  the  parent  and  first-cause  of  the  Practical. 
Thrice-baleful  Universe  of  Cant,  prophesied  for  these  Latter  Days.  The 
Universe  makes  no  immediate  objection  to  be  conceived  in  any  way. 
The  saddest  condition  of  human  affairs,  where  men  '  decree  injustice  by 
a  law.'  (p.  272.) — A  poor  man,  in  our  days,  has  many  gods  foisted  on 
him  :  If  Ignatius,  worshipped  by  millions  as  a  kind  of  god,  is  in  eter- 
nal fact  a  kind  of  devil,  surely  it  is  pressingly  expedient  that  men  laid 
It  awfully  to  heait.    Ignatius  Loyola,  a  man  born  greedy  ;  full  of  pruri- 


324 


SUMMARY. 


ent  elements  from  the  first.  On  the  walls  of  Pampeluna  :  A  wrecked 
Papin's-digester.  Reflections,  true,  salutary,  and  even  somewhat  of 
sacred :  Agonies  of  newbirth.  The  true  remedy  for  wrecked  sensual- 
ism,— to  annihilate  one's  pruriency.  Let  Eternal  Justice  triumph  on 
me,  since  it  cannot  triumph  by  me :  The  voice  of  Nature  to  a  repentant 
outcast  sinner  turning  again  towards  the  realms  of  manhood  ;  and  the 
precept  of  all  right  Christianity  too.  Not  so  did  Ignatius  read  the 
omens  ;  The  Task  he  fixed  upon  as  his.  Wilt  thou  then,  at  the  bidding 
of  any  Pope,  war  against  Almighty  God  ?  Frantic  mortal,  thy  late  Pig- 
hood  itself  is  trivial  in  comparison  !  (278) — Precious  message  of  salva- 
tion :  Salutary  nature  of  falsehoods,  and  divine  authority  of  things 
doubtful.  Not  '  victory '  for  Ignatius  and  his  black  militia.  Luther 
and  Protestantism  Proper  :  Jean  Jacques  and  Protestantism  improper. 
*  Vivaciousness '  of  Jesuitism.  Obedience  good  and  indispensable  :  Loy- 
ality  to  Beelzebub  ;  most  conspicuous  proof  of  caitiffhood  within  a  man's 
possibility.  This  country  tolerably  cleared  of  Jesuits  :  Expulsion  of  the 
Jesuit  Body  of  little  avail,  with  the  Jesuit  Soul  so  nestled  in  the  life  of 
mankind  everywhere.  1  Cant,  and  even  sincere  Cant :'  O  Heaven,  when 
a  man  doing  his  sincerest  is  still  but  canting  !  The  coward  solacement 
of  composure  and  a  whole  skin.  Deadly  virus  of  lying  ;  and  such  an 
odour  as  the  angels  never  smelt  before.  Awakening  from  the  sleep  of 
death  into  the  Sorcerer's  Sabbath  of  Anarchy.  (284. ) — A  man's  '  relig- 
ion,' not  the  many  things  he  tries  to  believe,  but  the  few  things  he  can- 
not doubt.  The  modern  man's  '  religion  ;'  what  poor  scantling  of  '  di- 
vine convictions '  he  has.  A  singular  piece  of  scribble,  in  Sauerteig's 
hand,  on  Pig  Philosophy  :  Pigs  of  sensibility  and  superior  logical  parts  : 
Their  'religion,' — notion  of  the  Universe,  and  of  their  interests  and 
duties  there.  (291.) — The  Fine  Arts,  by  some  thought  to  be  a  kind  of 
religion  :  Here  too  the  consummate  flower  of  Consecrated  Un veracity 
reigns  supreme.  The  new  St.  Stephen's,  with  its  wilderness  of  store 
pepperboxes.  The  Fine  Arts,  like  the  coarse  and  every  art  of  Man's 
god-given  Faculty,  sent  hither  not  to  fib  and  dance,  but  to  speak  and 
work.  Homer's  Iliad,  no  Fiction  but  a  Ballad  History:  The  Hebrew 
Bible,  before  all  things,  true,  as  no  other  Book  ever  was  or  will  be.  The 
History  of  every  Nation  an  Epic  and  Bible,  the  clouded  struggling 
image  of  a  God's  Presence.  Beyond  doubt  the  Almighty  Maker  made 
this  England  too  ;  and  has  been  and  forever  is  miraculously  present 
here.  What  are  the  eternal  covenants  we  can  believe,  and  dare  not  for 
our  life's  sake  but  go  and  observe  ?  These  are  our  Bible,  our  God's 
Word,  such  as  it  may  be.  '  Miracles,'  '  worships,'  after  their  kind.  No 
rhythmic  History  of  England,  but  what  we  find  in  Shakspeare.  Luxu 
rious  Europe  ;  with  its  wits,  story-tellers,  ballad-singers,  dancing-girls: 
All  the  Fine  Arts  converted  into  after-dinner  Amusements.  How  all 
tilings  hang  together  I  Universal  Jesuitism  once  lodged  in  the  heart, 
you  will  see  it  in  the  very  finger-nails  by  and  by.    (298.) — Our  Exodw> 


SUMMARY. 


325 


from  Houndsditch :  Yankee  Gatliercoal,  and  his  strange-flashing  torch- 
gleams.  How  simple  souls  clamour  occasionally  for  what  they  call  1  a 
new  religion.'  This  Universe,  in  all  times,  the  express  image  of  the 
human  souls,  and  their  thoughts  and  activities,  who  dwell  there.  The 
4  open  secret,'  in  these  dark  days  a  very  shut  one  indeed.  Surely  this 
ignoble  sluggishness,  sceptical  torpor,  is  not  doomed  to  be  our  final  con- 
dition :  Under  this  brutal  stagnancy  there  does  lie  painfully  imprisoned 
some  tendency  which  could  become  heroic.  (306.) 


INDEX. 


Able  Max,  the  born  soldier  of  Truth  and 
Order,  92;  appointed  by  '  divine  right '  to 
govern,  123  ;  methods  of  summoning  aloft, 
173.    See  Wisest  Man. 

Administrative  Reform,  89,  115.  See  Down- 
ing Street. 

American  Cousins,  our,  no  Model  Com- 
monwealth, 22 ;  their  noblest  Battle  yet 
to  fight,  23,  212. 

Anarchy  or  open  '  Kinglessness,'  9  ;  Consti- 
tuted" Anarchy,  31,  200,  232;  Sorcerers 
Sabbath  of,  291. 

Approval,  rightly  or  wrongly  given,  221, 
253. 

Aristocracy,  a  true,  or  Government  by  the 
Best,  114;  'Aristocracy'  of  Popular  Suf- 
frage, 246,  262;  veritable  Hierarchy  of 
Heaven,  252.    See  Peerage,  Hierarchy. 

Arts,  the  Fine,  a  'Worship  of  the  Beauti- 
ful,1 296  ;  intolerable  hypocrisy  of,  298  ; 
taking  into  fiction,  303. 

Astonishment,  different  quantities  of,  116. 

Ballot-box  delusion,  222. 

Bankruptcy  of  Imposture,  15,  133,  296. 

Benevolence,  59;  Benevolent-Platform  Fe- 
ver, 64,  69. 

Bible,  Hebrew,  162,  300  ;  the  Bible  of  a  Na- 
tion, the  authentic  Biography  of  its  Heroic 
Souls,  261,  300  ;  our  '  closed  Bible,'  292. 

Biography,  no,  but  wraps  in  it  a  message 
out  of  Heaven,  303. 

Bishops,  our,  and  what  comes  of  them,  31, 
152,  296;  not  our  ugliest  anomalies,  250; 
our  new  Souls'-Overseers,  158. 

Bobus  of  Houndsditch,  251. 

British  Nation,  the.  a  new  set  of  lessons  to 
learn,  86,  149,  1)6,  164;  no  real  concern 
with  the  Continental  Anarchies,  136.  See 
England. 

Brotherhoo  d  with  the  base  and  foolish,  65. 
Bureaucracy,  135. 

Burns,  Robert,  like  Apollo  taken  for  a  Neat- 
herd, 113  ;  his  chivalrous  ways,  1S4. 

Canada  rebellion,  141,  146. 

Cant,  thrice-baleful  universe  of,  72,  276; 

sincere  Cant,  288. 
Capital  punishment,  71,  74,  77. 
Catholic  Church,  the  old,  in  its  terrestrial 

relations,  124.    See  Pope. 
Chancellors,  and  their  beaten  road  to  the 

Peerage,  264. 
Charles  I.,  204. 
Charles  II.,  153,  273. 

Chartist  Notabilities  undergoing  their  term, 

53;  Chartist  Parliament,  217. 
Chatham  and  his  son  Pitt,  138. 


Christianity,  ghastly  Phantasm  of,  67,  72^ 
Christian  hatred  of  Scoundrels,  67  :  so- 
called  Christian  Clems,  269,  279  ;  Chris- 
tian Repentance,  281  ;  Gathercoal's  ac- 
count of  the  Christian  Church,  S07. 

Churches,  our  best-behaved  of,  242.  See 
Law. 

Collins's  Peerage-Book,  262. 

Colonial  Office,  sad  experiences  in  the,  84 ; 
Constitutions  for  the  Colonies  on  the  an- 
vil, 140,  143  ;  our  Colonies  worth  some- 
thing to  the  Country,  142  ;  new  kind  of 
Governors  needed,  147. 

Command  and  obedience,  158.  See  Obe- 
dience. 

Constitutions,  the  true  model  of,  24. 

Cowardice,  256,  287,  289. 

Crabbe,  on  British  Libertv,  32  ;  onr  fatal 
Oblivion  of  Right  and  Wrong,  78 ;  Ad- 
ministrative Reform,  89  ;  Constituted  An- 
archy, 132;  Ducal  Costermongers,  144; 
Ballot-box,  222  ;  Machine  fordoing  Gov- 
ernment, 254;  so-called  Christian  Clerus, 
269. 

Criminals,  what  to  do  with  our,  71,  253. 

Cromwell,  Chistianity  of,  69,  73,  153 ;  his 
Protestant  war,  137  ;  his  notion  of  '  vot- 
ing,' 226,  230  ;  Cromwell's  Statue,  237. 

'Crucify  him,'  a  considerable  feat  in  the 
suppression  of  minorities,  35,  227.  See 
"  Ou'  cloV 

Dante,  63. 

Democracy,  an  inevitable  fact  of  the  days 
we  live  in,  12 ;  not  a  '  Kind  of  Govern- 
ment,' 17  ;  no  Nation  that  could  ever  sub- 
sist upon,  21 ;  the  essence  of  whatever 
truth  is  in  it,  that  the  able  man  be  pro- 
moted in  whatever  rank  he  is  found,  114, 
123. 

Devil's  Elect  in  England,  57. 

Dinners,  English  public,  202. 

Dismal  Science,  the  Professors  of,  44,  142. 

Divorce,  new  Sacrament  of,  27. 

Dogs,  dead,  floating  in  the  Westminster 
region,  188. 

Downing  Street,  84-120  ;  reform  in,  87,  100  ; 
two  kinds  of  fundamental  error,  91 ;  abler 
Men  in,  102.  123.  135  ;  one  such  indispen- 
sable, 106,  115,  21S ;  a  small  Project  of 
Improvement,  108. 

Downing  Street,  the  New,  120-161  ;  what 
it  might  grow  to,  hard  to  say,  128  ;  work 
enough  before  it,  139,  156. 

Duke,  no  one  in  England  so  well  lodged  and 
tended  as  our  prisoner-scoundrels,  56; 
Ducal  Co-termongers,  160. 

Dupes,  a  kind  of  inverse  cheats,  15. 


328 


INDEX. 


Education,  Minister  of.  140,  15!3 ;  modern 
education  all  Krone  to  tongue,  102  ;  how  it 
was  in  the  old  healthy  times,  166. 

Electing  and  electioneering,  the  meaning 
of,  103,  21!). 

Eloquence,  unperformed,  a  cure  for,  170. 

Enfranchisement,  and  what  it  has  led  to. 
27,43.    See  Free  Men. 

England,  nnd  her  unattainable  'Model  Con- 
ftitution,1  32;  called  a  second  time  'to 
thow  the  Nations  how  to  live,' 33 ;  still 
contains  many  Kings,  34,  127;  how  the 
Devil  provides  for  his  own  in  England, 
£.7:  English  veracity,  fidelity,  62;  what 
England  wants,  89,  102, 1S9;  and  does  ?toi 
want,  1*5,  154  :  a  strange  feeling,  to  be  at 
tlie  apex  of  English  affairs,  116  ;  England 
with  the  largest  mass  of  real  living  inter- 
ests ever  intrusted  to  a  Nation,  127 ; 
means  to  keep  her  Colonies  a  while  jet, 
142,  144;  Englishmen  dare  not  believe 
the  truth,  151;  English  careers  to  born 
genius,  173 ;  England's  hope  in  her  young- 
er sons,  200  ;  no  longer  an  earnest  Na- 
tion, 211.  214  ;  time  of  accounts  fast  ar- 
riving, 260;  English  Peerages  once  au- 
thentically real,  264  ;  the  English  ramad- 
han,  274;  poor  scantling  of  'divine  con- 
victions,' 292;  the  History  o£  England, 
the  record  of  the  Divine  Appearances 
among  us,  301 ;  our  restless  gnawing  en- 
nui, the  painful  cry  of  an  imprisoned  her- 
oism, not  always  to  lie  imprisoned,  312. 
See  British  Nation. 

Ennni,  312. 

Etons  and  Oxfords,  with  their  broken 
crumbs  of  mere  speech,  158,  198. 

European  explosions  of  '1848,'  10;  wars 
since  Cromwell,  137;  modern  luxurious 
Em  op-,  304. 

Evil,  no.  ever  wrought  its  own  cure,  122. 

Exeter-Hall  twaddle,  67,  69. 

Eye-service,  198. 

Fetishes,  reckoned  respectable,  260,  278. 
Fiction,  idle,  intolerable  to  a  serious  soul, 
304. 

F  ddiestring,  Mr.  Hesperus,  69. 

Foolish,  privilege  of  the,  to  be  governed  by 

the  Wise,  "~5..  ;.6. 
Foreign  Office,  our,  astonishing  condition 

of,  85;  leformed,  136. 
Fraternity  and  Equality,  27,  51,  79. 
Free;  Men,  the  Nobles  of  the  World,  42,  235. 
Free  Press,  1S8. 

French  People,  the,  a  kind  of  Messiah  Peo- 
ple, very  glorious  indeed,  8;  bitter  ag- 
gravations, 8  ;  French  Convention,  215. 

Fritz  of  Prussia,  138. 

0  athehcoal's,  Yankee,  torch  gleams,  307. 
Government  Offices,  who  made  our,  98 ; 

beautiful  notion  of  No-Government,  132; 

Phantasm  Governors,  204. 

HAPFT.    See  Unhappy.  « 

Hatred  of  scoundrels,  the  backbone  of  all 

religion,  68;  Divine  Hatred,  75. 
Heavyside,  the  solid  Englishman,  17,  261. 
Hercules-Harlequin  in  (he  Foreign  Ollice, 

not  pleasant  to  think  of,  85. 


Hero-worship,  258;  a  man's  'religion,1  the 
practical  Hero-worship  that  is  in  him,  260 
311.    See  Religion. 

Hierarchy  of  beneficences,  241,  255  ;  Relig- 
ion the  parent  of  social  Hierarchies,  257  ; 
England  once  a  Hierarchy,  266,  301.  See 
Aristocracy. 

History  of  England  in  a  strange  condition, 
*30,  301. 

Home  Office,  William  Conqueror's,  99 ;  the 
Home  Office  our  grand  primary  concern, 
148,  154. 

Homer's  Iliad  a  Ballad  History,  SCO. 

Horses,  Farmer  Hodge's,  all  emancipated, 
28  ;  the  horse's  '  vote,'  228. 

Howard,  the  beatified  Philanthropist,  61. 

Hudson's  Statue,  237-212;  what  the  Hud- 
son worshippers  ought  to  have  done, 
while  they  were  about  it,  288:  Hudson's 
Popular  Election,  218  ;  his  value  as  a  rail- 
way-maker, 247.    See  Statues. 

Idleness,  lying  in  wait  round  all  labour- 
offices.  93  ;  organised  idleness,  138. 

Idols,  all,  have  to  fall,  250. 

Imposture.    See  Bankruptcy. 

Incontinence,  the  half  of  all  our  sins,  198. 

Individual  responsibility,  249. 

Industry,  Captains  of,  37,  44;  Industry  or 
death,  47 ;  Industrial  Regiments,  139, 
156 ;  English  career  of  Industrialism,  174. 

Intellect,  tragic  consequences  of  insuffi- 
cient, 91,  104,  107,  119,  120,  172;  human 
Intellect  the  exact  summary  of  human 
Worth,  102  ;  how  to  increase  the  supplv, 
107  ;  English  beaver  intellect,  173. 

Irish  and  British  Pauperism,  38  ;  the  Irish 
Giant,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour,  90, 
148. 

James  the  First's  bad  reign.  264. 

Jefferson  Brick,  answer  to,  250. 

Jesuitism,  272-313  ;  Age  and  Gospel  of,  273  ; 
stupendous  achievements,  284;  how  the 
computation  quite  broke  down.  2!-5  ;  1  vi- 
vaciousness '  of  Jesuitism,  286 ;  the  Jesuit 
Soul  nestled  amongst  us,  288  ;  necessity  of 
putting  it  away,  291 ;  Jesuitism  in  the 
Fine  Aits,  296,  305  ;  celebrated  'virtues,' 
305. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  most  indubitable  of 

facts,  308.    See  Crucify. 
Johnson's  politeness,  185. 
Justice,  the  one  indispensable  thing,  66,  71 ; 

unspeakably  difficult  of  attainment,  255; 

voice  of  Justice  to  a  repentant  sinner, 

2S2;  pig-justice,  294. 

KEPLEE,  62. 

Kings  everywhere,  in  sudden  horror,  con- 
scious of  being  Playactors,  9;  the  true 
king  and  commander  of  men,  34,  37,  54  " 
not  to  be  dispensed  with  anywhere,  106, 
200  ;  true  function  of  a  king,  131,  225, 
2:10 ;  no  King  in  Parliament,  206,  209, 
217;  Parliament  an  'impossible  King,' 
218.  ISee  Able  Man,  Wisest  Man,  Premier. 

Eaboui?,  true  Organisation  of,  37.    Sec  In- 
dustry, Work. 
1  Lumartine,  M.  de,  at  the  Hotel  de-Ville,  10. 


INDEX. 


329 


Law  and  Church,  angry  basilisks  of,  177 ; 
injustice  decreed  by  a  '  law,'  277  ;  Law- 
yers, 265,  295. 

Laws  and  regulations  of  the  Universe,  how 
decipher  the,  20,  75  ;  such  laws  do  verily 
exist,  silent,  but  inflexibly  sure,  191  ;  not 
to  be  decided  by  our  paltry  1  votings,'  220  ; 
iu  the  way  of  abatement,  of  oblivion, 
neii  her  gods  nor  men  prevail,  208.  See 
Universe. 

Leaiing-rat,  the,  226. 

Lioerty,  British.  32.    See  Enfranchisement. 

L.us,  •damned,'  182;  every  lie  accursed, 
and  the  parent  of  curses,  152;  diagnosis 
of  a  ho,  and  a  liar,  18S  ;  benevolent  plan 
of  reform,  1!)6  ;  subtle  quintessence  of  ly- 
ing, 288. 

Lighter  lightning,  a  choice,  120,  152. 
Literature,  true  and  sham,  159,  199 ;  our 

crowded  portal  of,  179;  highest  problem 

of.  26  3,  298. 
Liturgies,  such  as  no  God  can  hear,  261. 
Louis- Philippism,  the  scorn  of  the  world,  S. 
Love,  method  of,  to  command  Scoundrels, 

51. 

Loyalty  to  Beelzebub,  287. 

Loyola,  Ignatius,  273 ;  a  man  not  good  by 
nature,  2t->0  ;  on  the  walls  of  Pampeluna, 
agonies  of  new-birth,  280  ;  highest  pitch 
of  the  prurient-heroic,  war  against  Al- 
mighty God,  283.    See  Jesuitism. 

Majorities,  blockhead,  234,  250. 

Manning,  Mrs.,  '  flying  game,'  64. 

Marten,  Henry,  235. 

Medicine,  profession  of.  171. 

Minorities,  down  to  minority  of  one,  230. 

Model  Prisons,  48-83 ;  a  London  prison  of 

the  model  kind,  52. 
Moloch,  our  modern,  199. 
Money,  doomed  to  possess,  193. 

Nawaub,  Europe  one  big  ugly,  804. 

Needlewomen,  Distressed,  30. 

Negro  population,  our,  need  to  be  i  emanci- 
pated '  from  their  indolence,  66.  See 
Slavery. 

Ncssus'-shirt,  our  poisoned,  153. 
Now  Era,  our  heavy  laden  long-eared,  13,  47, 
48. 

Nineteenth  Century,  intellect  of  the,  121. 
Nobility,  fg-,  196,  311. 

Noble,  young,  true  education  of  the,  167. 

See  Aristocracy. 
Nomadism  uglier  than  slavery,  43. 

Obedience,  158 ;  true  and  false,  287,  307. 
Old  ago,  reverence  for,  11. 
Opera,  31 5. 

On'  clo',"  the  fateful  Hebrew  Prophecy,  35, 

73,  78,  306. 
Oxford.    See  Eton. 

Paradise  to  all-and-sundry.  64,  78. 

Parliament,  modern  recipe  of,  18  ;  the  Eng- 
lish Parliament  once  a  Council  of  actual 
Rulers,  32,  202,  213 ;  now  an  enormous 
National  Palaver,  95,  1»2,  206 ;  what;  it 
has  done  for  us,  117;  kind  of  men  sent 
there,  134,  211  ;  Parliamentary  career, 
178 ;  Parliamentary  bagpipes,  187,  196 ; 


Parliaments,  200-236  ;  origin  of  our  Eng- 
lish Parliaments,  202 ;  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment, 205,  213  ;  position  of  Parliament  be- 
come false  and  impossible,  206  ;  with  a 
Free  Press,  the  real  function  of  Parlia- 
ment goes  on  everywhere,  continually, 
206 ;  Adviser  of  the  Sovereign,  or  Sover- 
eign itself,  209,215;  Newspaper  Report- 
ers, in  a  Parliament  and  Nation  no  longer 
in  earnest,  210  ;  the  French  Convention 
all  in  deadly  earnest,  215  ;  Chartist  Par- 
liament, 217  ;  a  Parliament  indispensable, 
223  ;  Condensed  Folly  of  Nations,  224. 

Paupers,  our  Irish  and  British,  38;  address 
to,  40  ;  Pauperism,  our  Social  Sin  grown 
manifest,  149,  150. 

Peace,  keeping  the,  the  function  of  a  police- 
man, 129 ;  something  more  sacred  than 
'  peace,'  256. 

Pedant,  the,  94. 

Peel,  Sir  Robert,  the  one  likely  or  possible 
Reformer  of  Downing  Street,  88;  his 
'eleventh  hour,'  160. 

Peerage,  the  English,  past  and  present,  263. 
See  Aristocracy. 

Philanthropy,  indiscriminate,  50  ;  threaten- 
ing to  drown  human  society  as  in  deluges, 
65. 

Pig-Philosophy,  293. 

Poet,  what  the,  should  be,  296,  300. 

Politeness,  who  invented,  186. 

Political  Economy,  and  its  small  '  law  of 
God,'  46.    See  Dismal  Science. 

Pope,  a  Reforming,  and  his  huge  unreform- 
able  Popedom,  6. 

Premier,  mad  methods  of  choosing  a,  95, 
176  ;  a  more  unbeautiful  class  never  raked 
out  of  the  ooze,  127  ;  one  wise  Premier  the 
beginning  of  all  good,  135.    See  King. 

Present  Time,  the,  5-48. 

Protestantism,  proper  and  improper,  225. 

Puseyisms,  152,  179. 

Railways,  how,  are  shifting  all  towns  of 
Britain  into  new  places,  248  ;  stupendous 
railway  miracles,  258. 

Ramadhan,  the  English,  274. 

Real,  the,  always  respectable,  271. 

Reform,  poor  old  Genius  of,  67.  See  Admin- 
istrative Reform,  Downing  Street. 

Religion,  not  the  many  things  a  man  tries  to 
believe,  but  the  few  he  cannot  doubt,  291  ; 
foolish  clamour  for  a  '  new  religion,'  310. 
See  Worship. 

Repentance,  sacredness  of,  281. 

Republics,  ancient  and  modern,  21. 

Revenge,  mournful  twaddle  about,  71 ;  sa- 
cred duty  of,  76. 

Reverence,  our  want  of,  241. 

Reward  and  punishment,  73,  77. 

Right  and  Wrong,  silent  awful  sense  of,  50, 
311  ;  dim  oblivion  of.  79. 

Roman  Augurs,  Cicero's,  152. 

Sauerteig  on  Pig-Philosophy.  293. 

Schoolmasters,  when  useful,  167. 

Scoundrel  is  scoundrel,  55,  59 ;  not  to  be 
commanded  by  mere  '  love.'  55  ;  Supreme 
Scoundrel,  81  ;  Hero  and  Scoundrel,  now 
almost  indistinguishable,  266. 

Sea-kings,  the  old,  and  Saxon  Pirates,  100.  . 


330 


INDEX. 


Self-annihilation,  282. 

Seventy-four,  an  English,  and  its  inarticu- 
late traditions,  100. 

Shakspeare's  scattered  tones  of  a  National 
Epos,  303. 

Shams,  utter  damnability  of,  16,  25. 

Sicilian  Insurrection,  7. 

Silence,  excellent,  or  good  work  with  lips 
closed,  164 :  what  silence  means  in  the 
Nineteenth  Century,  180  ;  a  life  in  silence, 
197;  silent  work,  and  silent  suffering. 
108. 

Sincerity,  deep  awful  divine  quality  of,  288. 
Slaves,  authentic,  to  be  treated  as  such,  43, 

232.    See  Mastership,  Negro. 
Sleswick  thunder-horsa,  badly  ridden,  97, 

143. 

SInggard-and-Scoundrel  Protection  Society, 
65. 

Society,  vital  lungs  of,  126, 171 ;  no  Society, 

but  a  lust  horde,  264. 
Somnauth,  Idol  of,  250. 
Souls'-Overseers.    See  Bishops. 
Sparrowbill  and  M'Pastehorn,  66. 
Spartan  humanity,  42. 

Speak,  ability  to,  no  evidence  of  ability  to 
work,  110,  163,  182;  speech  and  sham- 
speech,  164,  16S,  181  ;  eloquent  unper- 
formed speech,  horrible,  176 ;  Human 
Speech  no  longer  true,  200.  See  Stump- 
Orator. 

Spiritual,  the,  the  parent  and  first-cause  of 
the  practical,  275. 

Statues,  our  Public,  symbolic  of  our  spiritual 
condition,  238,  240,  245,  267,  271;  how 
they  are  got  up,  243 ;  sculptural  talent 
manifest  in  them,  245 ;  how  they  ought 
to  be  put  down,  2T0. 

St.  Stephen's,  the  new,  299. 

Stump-Orator,  161-200  ;  a  mouthpiece  of 
Chaos,  165,  187,  191  ;  Supreme  Stump- 
Orators  in  the  Lawyer  department,  265. 

Stupidity,  our  one  enemy,  94,  101,  108. 

Suffrage,  Universal.  36,  226;  recipe  of  Pop- 
ular Election,  246 ;  answer  to  Jefferson 
Brick,  250 ;  universal-suffrage  equivalent 
to  flat  despair,  257. 


Snppiy-and-demand,  brought  to  bear  on  the 
Black  'labour-market,'  29. 

Times  Newspaper,  207. 
Tongue,  human  talent  all  gone  to,  161,  176, 
180  ;  how  to  cure  the  evil,  170,  196. 

Unhappy  sugary  brethren,  64;  happiness 
not  come,  312. 

Universe,  the,  a  Monarchy  and  Hierarchy, 
25 ;  the  vesture  of  an  Invisible  Infinite, 
258,  276;  M'Croudy's  notion  of,  203;  all 
things  to  all  men,  310  ;  1  open  secret '  of, 
311.    See  Laws. 

Virtue,  human,  raw  materials  of,  64. 

Voting,  foolish  unanimity  of,  19;  large  lib- 
erty of  '  voting  in  God's  Universe,  but 
under  conditions  inexorable,  24,  191,  219. 
222,  256 ;  what  to  do  with  the  '  fool's  vote,' 
222,  227,  293;  the  'votes'  of  all  men 
worth  knowing,  224  ;  the  horse's  '  vote,' 
228  ;  the  slave"  s,  233  ;  the  man  worth  tak- 
ing the  vote  of,  236. 

William  Conqueror's  Home  Office,  99. 
William,  Dutch,  138. 
William  Ruf  us  and  his  Parliaments,  202. 
Wisdom  alone  can  recognise  wisdom,  107, 

112,  134;  intrinsically  of  silent  nature, 

184. 

Wisest  man,  the,  at  the  top  of  society,  241  ; 
he  and  not  a  counterfeit,  under  penalties, 
25,  185. 

Work  for  all  men,  45,  46 ;  a  Human  Doer 
the  most  complex  and  inarticulate  of  Nat- 
ure's Facts,  183  ;  desirability  of  work, 
242.    See  Labour. 

Working  man,  true  education  of  the,  166. 

Worship,  practical,  239 ;  many  phases  of 
worship,  257,  278.  302. 

Worth,  human,  practical  reverence  for,  73; 
the  essence  of  all  true  '  religions,1 102, 108. 
See  Intellect. 

Zero,  the  Right  Honourable,  96. 


CHARTISM 


THOMAS  CAELYLE 


"It  never  smokes  but  there  is  Are."— Old  Proverb 


BOSTON 

DeWOLFE,  FISKE  &  COMPANY 

361  and  365  Washington  Street 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Chaf.  I.  Condition-of -England  Question,         ....  5 

EC.  Statistics,       ........  11 

»HI.  New  Foor-Law,  ........  15 

IV.  Finest  Peasantry  in  the  World,      ....  21 

V.  Rights  and  Mights,   30 

VI.  Laissez-Faire,  .       .       .       .            .  ■>       .       .  39 

VII.  Not  Laissez-Faire,   49 

VIII.  New  Eras,   53 

IX.  Parliamentary  Radicalism,        .       .       ...  68 

X.  Impossible,     ........  72 


CHARTISM* 


CHAPTEB  I. 

CONDITION-OF-ENGLAND  QUESTION. 

A  feeling  very  generally  exists  that  the  condition  and  dis- 
position of  the  working  Classes  is  a  rather  ominous  matter  at 
present  ;  that  something  ought  to  be  said,  something  ought 
to  be  done,  in  regard  to  it.  And  surely  at  an  epoch  of  his- 
tory when  the  '  National  Petition  '  carts  itself  in  waggons  along 
the  streets,  and  is  presented  '  bound  with  iron  hoops,  four 
men  bearing  it,'  to  a  Reformed  House  of  Commons  ;  and 
Chartism  numbered  by  the  million  and  half,  taking  nothing 
by  its  iron-hooped  Petition,  breaks  out  into  brickbats,  cheap 
pikes,  and  even  into  sputterings  of  conflagration,  such  very 
general  feeling  cannot  be  considered  unnatural !  To  us  individ- 
ually this  matter  appears,  and  has  for  many  years  appeared, 
to  be  the  most  ominous  of  all  practical  matters  whatever ; 
matter  in  regard  to  which  if  something  be  not  done,  something 
will  do  itself  one  day,  and  in  a  fashion  that  will  please  nobody. 
The  time  is  verily  come  for  acting  in  it ;  how  much  more  for 
consultation  about  acting  in  it,  for  speech  and  articulate  in- 
quiry about  it ! 

We  are  aware  that,  according  to  the  newspapers,  Chartism 
is  extinct ;  that  a  Reformed  Ministry  has  *  put  down  the 
chimera  of  Chartism '  in  the  most  felicitous  effectual  manner- 
So  say  the  newspapers  ; — and  yet,  alas,  most  readers  of  news- 
papers know  withal  that  it  is  indeed  the  '  chimera  '  of  Chartism, 
not  the  reality,  which  has  been  put  down.  The  distracted  in- 
coherent embodiment  of  Chartism,  whereby  in  late  months  it 
*  First  published  in  January,  1840. 


6 


CHARTISM. 


took  shape  and  became  visible,  this  has  been  put  down  ;  or 
rather  has  fallen  down  and  gone  asunder  by  gravitation  and  law 
of  nature  ;  but  the  living  essence  of  Chartism  has  not  been  put 
down.  Chartism  means  the  bitter  discontent  grown  fierce  and 
mad,  the  wrong  condition  therefore  or  the  wrong  disposition,  of 
the  Working  Classes  of  England.  It  is  a  new  name  for  a  thing 
which  has  had  many  names,  and  which  will  yet  have  many.  The 
matter  of  Chartism  is  weighty,  deep-rooted,  far  extending  ;  did 
not  begin  yesterday  ;  will  by  no  means  end  this  day  or  to-mor- 
row. Reform  Ministiy,  constabulary  rural  police,  new  levy  of 
soldiers,  grants  of  money  to  Birmingham  ;  all  this  is  well,  or 
is  not  well ;  all  this  will  put  down  only  the  embodiment  or 
'chimera'  of  Chartism.  The  essence  continuing,  new  and 
ever  new  embodiments,  chimeras  madder  or  less  mad,  have  to 
continue.  The  melancholy  fact  remains,  that  this  thing  known 
at  present  by  the  name  Chartism  does  exist,  has  existed  ;  and, 
either  '  put  down„'  into  secret  treason,  with  rusty  pistols,  vit- 
riol-bottle and  match-box,  or  openly  bi'andishing  pike  and 
torch  (one  knows  not  in  which  case  more  fatal-looking),  is  like 
to  exist  till  quite  other  methods  have  been  tried  with  it. 
What  means  this  bitter  discontent  of  the  Working  Classes  ? 
Whence  comes  it,  whither  goes  it  ?  Above  all,  at  what  price, 
on  what  terms,  will  it  probably  consent  to  depart  from  us  and 
die  into  rest  ?    These  are  questions. 

To  say  that  it  is  mad,  incendiary,  nefarious,  is  no  answer. 
To  say  all  this,  in  never  so  many  dialects,  is  saying  little. 
'Glasgow  Thuggery,'  'Glasgow  Thugs;'  it  is  a  witty  nick- 
name :  the  practice  of  '  Number  60 '  entering  his  dark  room, 
to  contract  for  and  settle  the  price  of  blood  with  operative 
assassins,  in  a  Christian  city,  once  distinguished  by  its  rigorous 
Christianism,  is  doubtless  a  fact  worthy  of  all  horror  :  but 
what  will  horror  do  for  it  ?  What  will  execration  ;  nay  at 
bottom  what  will  condemnation  and  banishment  to  Botany 
Bay  do  for  it?  Glasgow  Thuggery,  Chartist  torch-meetings, 
Birmingham  riots,  Swing  conflagrations,  are  so  many  symp- 
toms on  the  surface  ;  you  abolish  the  symptom  to  no  purpose, 
if  the  disease  is  left  untouched.  Boils  on  the  surface  are  cur- 
able or  incurable, — small  matter  which,  while  the  virulent 


CONDITION-  0 F- KNG  L AND  Q  UEBTION. 


7 


humour  festers  deep  within  ;  poisoning  the  source  of  life  ; 
and  certain  enough  to  find  for  itself  ever  new  boils  and  sore 
issues  ;  ways  of  announcing  that  it  continues  there,  that  it 
would  fain  not  continue  there. 

Delirious  Chartism  will  not  have  raged  entirely  to  no  pur- 
pose, as  indeed  no  earthly  thing  does  so,  if  it  have  forced  all 
thinking  men  of  the  community  to  think  of  this  vital  matter,  too 
apt  to  be  overlooked  otherwise.  Is  the  condition  of  the  Eug- 
lish  working  people  wrong ;  so  wrong  that  rational  working 
men  cannot,  will  not,  and  even  should  not  rest  quiet  under  it  ? 
A  most  grave  case,  complex  beyond  all  others  in  the  world  ; 
a  case  wherein  Botany  Bay,  constabulary  rural  police,  and 
such  like,  will  avail  but  little.  Or  is  the  discontent  itself  mad, 
like  the  shape  it  took  ?  Not  the  condition  of  the  working  peo- 
ple that  is  wrong  ;  but  their  disposition,  their  own  thoughts, 
beliefs  and  feelings  that  are  wrong?  This  too  were  a  most 
grave  case,  little  less  alarming,  little  less  complex,  than  the 
former  one.  In  this  case  too,  where  constabulary  police  and 
mere  rigour  of  coercion  seems  more  at  home,  coercion  will  by 
no  means  do  all,  coercion  by  itself  will  not  even  do  much.  If 
there  do  exist  general  madness  of  discontent,  then  sanity  and 
some  measure  of  content  must  be  brought  about  again, — not 
by  constabulary  police  alone.  When  the  thoughts  of  a  people, 
in  the  great  mass  of  it,  have  grown  mad,  the  combined  issue 
of  that  people's  workings  will  be  a  madness,  an  incoherency 
and  ruin !  Sanity  will  have  to  be  recovered  for  the  general 
mass  ;  coercion  itself  will  otherwise  cease  to  be  able  to  coerce. 

We  have  heard  it  asked,  Why  Parliament  throws  no  light 
on  this  question  of  the  Working  Classes,  and  the  condition  or 
disposition  they  are  in  ?  Truly  to  a  remote  observer  of  Par- 
liamentary procedure  it  seems  surprising,  especially  in  late 
Reformed  times,  to  see  what  space  this  question  occupies  in 
the  Debates  of  the  Nation.  Can  any  other  business  whatso- 
ever be  so  pressing  on  legislators  ?  A  Reformed  Parliament, 
one  would  think,  should  inquire  into  popular  discontents  be- 
fore they  get  the  length  of  pikes  and  torches  !  For  what  end 
at  all  are  men,  Honourable  Members  and  Reform  Members, 
sent  to  St.  Stephen's,  with  clamour  and  effort ;  kept  talking, 


8 


CHARTISM. 


struggling,  motioning  and  counter-motioning  ?  The  condition 
of  the  great  body  of  people  in  a  country  is  the  condition  of 
the  country  itself  :  this  you  would  say  is  a  truism  in  all  times  ; 
a  truism  rather  pressing  to  get  recognised  as  a  truth  now, 
and  be  acted  upon,  in  these  times.  Yet  read  Hansard's  De- 
bates, or  the  Morning  Papers,  if  you  have  nothing  to  do ! 
The  old  grand  question,  whether  A  is  to  be  in  office  or  B, 
with  the  innumerable  subsidiary  questions  growing  out  of 
that,  courting  paragraphs  and  suffrages  for  a  blessed  solution 
of  that :  Canada  question,  Irish  Appropriation  question,  West 
India  question,  Queen's  Bedchamber  question  ;  Game  Laws, 
Usury  Laws  ;  African  Blacks,  Hill  Coolies,  Smithfield  cattle, 
and  Dog-carts, — all  manner  of  questions  and  subjects,  except 
simply  this  the  alpha  and  omega  of  all !  Surely  Honourable 
Members  ought  to  speak  of  the  Condition-of-Englancl  ques- 
tion too.  Radical  Members,  above  all ;  friends  of  the  people  ; 
chosen  with  effort,  by  the  people,  to  intrepret  and  articulate 
the  dumb  deep  want  of  the  people  !  To  a  remote  observer 
they  seem  oblivious  of  their  duty.  Are  they  not  there,  by 
trade,  mission,  and  express  appointment  of  themselves  and 
others,  to  speak  for  the  good  of  the  British  Nation  ?  What- 
soever great  British  interest  can  the  least  speak  for  itself,  for 
that  beyond  all  they  are  called  to  speak.  They  are  either 
speakers  for  that  great  dumb  toiling  class  which  cannot  speak, 
or  they  are  nothing  that  one  can  well  specify. 

Alas,  the  remote  observer  knows  not  the  nature  of  Parlia- 
ments :  how  Parliaments,  extant  there  for  the  British  Nation's 
sake,  find  that  they  are  extant  withal  for  their  own  sake  ;  how 
Parliaments  travel  so  naturally,  in  their  deep-rutted  routine, 
common-place  worn  into  ruts  axle-deep,  from  which  only 
strength,  insight  and  courageous  generous  exertion  can  lift 
any  Parliament  or  vehicle  ;  how  in  Parliaments,  Reformed  or 
Unreformed,  there  may  chance  to  be  a  strong  man,  an  origi- 
nal, clear-sighted,  great  hearted,  patient  and  valiant  man,  or 
there  may  chance  be  to  none  such  ; — how,  on  the  whole,  Parlia- 
ments, lumbering  along  in  their  deep  ruts  of  common-place, 
find,  as  so  many  of  us  otherwise1  do,  that  the  ruts  are  axle- 
deep,  and  the  travelling  very  toilsome  of  itself,  and  for  the 


CONDI  TION-  OF-  ENGLAND  Q  U EST  ION. 


9 


day  the  evil  thereof  sufficient !  "What  Parliaments  ought  to 
have  done  in  this  business,  what  they  will,  can  or  cannot  yet 
do,  and  where  the  limits  of  their  faculty  and  culpability  may 
lie,  in  regard  to  it,  were  a  long  investigation  ;  into  which  we 
need  not  enter  at  this  moment.  What  they  have  done  is  unhap- 
pily plain  enough.  Hitherto,  on  this  most  national  of  ques- 
tions, the  Collective  Wisdom  of  the  Nation  has  availed  us  as 
good  as  nothing  whatever. 

And  yet,  as  we  say,  it  is  a  question  which  cannot  be  left  to 
the  Collective  Folly  of  the  Nation  !  In  or  out  of  Parliament, 
darkness,  neglect,  hallucination  must  contrive  to  cease  in  re- 
gard to  it ;  true  insight  into  it  must  be  had.  How  inexpress- 
ibly useful  were  true  insight  into  it  ;  a  genuine  understanding 
by  the  upper  classes  of  society  what  it  is  that  the  under  classes 
intrinsically  mean  ;  a  clear  interpretation  of  the  thought  which 
at  heart  torments  these  wild  inarticulate  souls,  struggling 
there,  with  inarticulate  uproar,  like  dumb  creatures  in  pain, 
unable  to  speak  what  is  in  them  !  \  Something  they  do  mean  ; 
some  true  thing  withal,  in  the  centre  of  their  confused  hearts, 
— for  they  are  hearts  created  by  Heaven  too  :  to  the  Heaven 
it  is  clear  what  thing  ;  to  us  not  clear.  Would  that  it  were  ! 
Perfect  clearness  on  it  were  equivalent  to  remedy  of  it.  For, 
as  is  well  said,  all  battle  is  misunderstanding  ;  did  the  parties 
know  one  another,  the  battle  would  cease.  No  man  at  bot- 
tom means  injustice  ;  it  is  always  for  some  obscure  distorted 
image  of  aright  that  he  contends  :  an  obscure  image  diffracted, 
exaggerated;  in  the  wonderfullest  way,  by  natural  dimness  and 
selfishness  ;  getting  tenfold  more  diffracted  by  exasperation 
of  contest,  till  at  length  it  become  all  but  irrecognisable  ;  yet 
still  the  image  of  a  right.  Could  a  man  own  to  himself  that 
the  thing  he  fought  for  was  wrong,  contrary  to  fairness  and 
the  law  of  reason,  he  would  own  also  that  it  thereby  stood  con- 
demned and  hopeless  ;  he  could  fight  for  it  no  longer.  Nay 
independently  of  right,  could  the  contending  parties  get  but 
accurately  to  discern  one  another's  might  and  strength  to  con- 
tend, the  one  would  peaceably  yield  to  the  other  and  to  Ne- 
cessity ;  the  contest  in  this  case  too  were  over.  No  African 
expedition  now,  as  in  the  days  of  Herodotus,  is  fitted  out 


10 


CHARTISM. 


against  the  South-wind.  One  expedition  was  satisfactory  in 
that  department.  The  South-wind  Simoom  continues  blow- 
ing occasionally,  hateful  as  ever,  maddening  as  ever  ;  but  one 
expedition  was  enough.  Do  Ave  not  all  submit  to  Death  ? 
The  highest  sentence  of  the  law,  sentence  of  death,  is  passed 
on  all  of  us  by  the  fact  of  birth  ;  yet  we  live  patiently  under 
it,  patiently  undergoing  it  when  the  hour  comes.  Clear  un- 
deniable right,  clear  undeniable  might  :  either  of  these  once 
ascertained  puts  an  end  to  battle.  All  battle  is  a  confused  ex- 
periment to  ascertain  one  and  both  of  these. 

What  are  the  rights,  what  are  the  mights  of  the  discon- 
tented Working  Classes  in  England  at  this  epoch  ?  He  were 
an  QEclipus,  and  deliverer  from  sad  social  pestilence,  who 
could  resolve  us  fully  !  For  we  may  say  beforehand,  *the 
struggle  that  divides  the  upper  and  lower  in  society  over  Eu- 
rope, and  more  painfully  and  notably  in  England  than  else- 
where, this  too  is  a  struggle  which  will  end  and  adjust  itself 
as  all  other  struggles  do  and  have  done,  by  making  the  right 
clear  and  the  might  clear  ;  not  otherwise  than  by  that.  Mean- 
time, the  questions,  Why  are  the  Working  Classes  discon- 
tented ;  what  is  their  condition,  economical,  moral,  in  their 
houses  and  their  hearts,  as  it  is  in  reality  and  as  they  figure 
it  to  themselves  to  be  ;  what  do  they  complain  of ;  what  ought 
they,  and  ought  they  not  to  complain  of  ? — these  are  measur- 
able questions  ;  on  some  of  these  any  common  mortal,  did  he 
but  turn  his  eyes  to  them,  might  throw  some  light.  Certain 
researches  and  considerations  of  ours  on  the  matter,  since  no 
one  else  will  undertake  it,  are  now  to  be  made  public.  The 
researches  have  yielded  us  little,  almost  nothing  ;  but  the  con- 
siderations are  of  old  date,  and  press  to  have  utterance.  We 
are  not  without  hope  that  our  general  notion  of  the  business, 
if  we  can  get  it  uttered  at  all,  will  meet  some  assent  from 
many  candid  men. 


STATISTICS. 


11 


CHAPTER  H 

STATISTICS. 

A  witty  statesman  said  you  might  prove  anything  by  figures. 
We  have  looked  into  various  statistic  works,  Statistic-Society 
Reports,  Poor-Law  Reports,  Reports  and  Pamphlets  not  a  few, 
with  a  sedulous  eye  to  this  question  of  the  Working  Classes 
and  their  general  condition  in  England  ;  we  grieve  to  say, 
with  as  good  as  no  result  whatever.  Assertion  swallows  asser- 
tion ;  according  to  the  old  Proverb,  1  as  the  statist  thinks,  the 
bell  clinks  ! '  \  Tables  are  like  cobwebs,  like  the  sieve  of  the 
Danaides  ;  beautifully  reticulated,  orderly  to  look  upon,  but 
which  will  hold  no  conclusion.  Tables  are  abstractions,  and 
the  object  a  most  concrete  one,  so  difficult  to  read  the  essence 
of.  There  are  innumerable  circumstances  ;  and  one  circum- 
stance left  out  may  be  the  vital  one  on  which  all  turned. 
Statistics  is  a  science  which  ought  to  be  honourable,  the  basis 
of  many  most  important  sciences  ;  but  it  is  not  to  be  carried 
on  by  steam,  this  science,  any  more  than  others  are  ;  a  wise 
head  is  requisite  for  carrying  it  on.  Conclusive  facts  are  in- 
separable from  inconclusive  except  by  a  head  that  already 
understands  and  knows. [  Vain  to  send  the  purblind  and  blind 
to  the  shore  of  a  Pactolus  never  so  golden  :  these  find  only 
gravel ;  the  seer  and  finder  alone  picks  up  gold  grains  there. 
And  now  the  purblind  offering  you,  with  asseveration  and 
protrusive  importunity,  his  basket  of  gravel  as  gold,  what  steps 
are  to  be  taken  with  him  ? — Statistics,  one  may  hope,  will  im- 
prove gradually,  and  become  good  for  something.  Meanwhile 
it  is  to  be  feared,  the  crabbed  satirist  was  partly  right,  as 
things  go  :  1  A  judicious  man,'  says  he,  '  looks  at  Statistics, 
'  not  to  get  knowledge,  but  to  save  himself  from  having  igno- 
'  ranee  foisted  on  him.'  With  what  serene  conclusiveness  a 
member  of  some  Useful-Knowledge  Society  stops  your  mouth 
with  a  figure  of  arithmetic  !  To  him  it  seems  he  has  there  ex- 
tracted the  elixir  of  the  matter,  on  which  now  nothing  more 
can  be  said.  It  is  needful  that  you  look  into  his  said  extracted 


12 


CHARTISM. 


elixir  ;  and  ascertain,  alas,  too  probably,  not  without  a  sigh, 
that  it  is  wash  and  vapidity,  good  only  for  the  gutters. 

Twice  or  three  times  have  we  heard  the  lamentations  and 
prophecies  of  a  humane  Jeremiah,  mourner  for  the  poor,  cut 
short  by  a  statistic  fact  of  the  most  decisive  nature  : ^How  can 
the  condition  of  the  poor  be  other  than  good,  be  other  than 
better  ;  has  not  the  average  duration  of  life  in  England,  and 
therefore  among  the  most  numerous  class  in  England,  been 
proved  to  have  increased  ?  Our  Jeremiah  had  to  admit  that, 
if  so,  it  was  an  astounding  fact ;  whereby  all  that  ever  he,  for 
his  part,  had  observed  on  other  sides  of  the  matter  was  overset 
without  remedy.  If  life  last  longer,  life  must  be  less  worn 
upon,  by  outward  suffering,  by  inward  discontent,  by  hardship 
of  any  kind  ;  the  general  condition  of  the  poor  must  be  bet- 
tering instead  of  worsening.  So  was  our  Jeremiah  cut  short. 
And  now  for  the  '  proof  ? '  Readers  who  are  curious  in  statistic 
proofs  may  see  it  drawn  out  with  all  solemnity,  in  a  Pamphlet 
'  published  by  Charles  Knight  and  Company,'* — and  perhaps 
himself  draw  inferences  from  it ;  Northampton  Tables,  com- 
piled by  Dr.  Price  '  from  registers  of  the  Parish  of  All  Saints 
from  1735  to  1780  ;'  Carlisle  Tables,  collected  by  Dr.  Hey- 
sham  from  observation  of  Carlisle  City  for  eight  years,  '  the 
calculations  founded  on  them '  conducted  by  another  Doctor ; 
incredible  '  document  considered  satisfactory  by  men  of  sci- 
ence in  France  : ' — alas,  is  it  not  as  if  some  zealous  scientific 
son  of  Adam  had  proved  the  deepening  of  the  Ocean,  by  sur- 
vey, accurate  or  cursory,  of  two  mud-plashes  on  the  coast  of 
the  Isle  of  Dogs  ?  '  Not  to  get  knowledge,  but  to  save  your- 
self from  having  ignorance  foisted  on  you  ! ' 

The  condition  of  the  working  man  in  this  country,  what  it 
is  and  has  been,  whether  it  is  improving  or  retrograding, — is 
a  question  to  which  from  statistics  hitherto  no  solution  can  be 
got.  Hitherto,  after  many  tables  and  statements,  one  is  still 
left  mainly  to  what  he  can  ascertain  by  his  own  eyes,  looking 
at  the  concrete  phenomenon  for  himself.  There  is  no  other 
method  ;  and  yet  it  is  a  most  imperfect  method.    Each  man 

*  An  Essay  on  the  Means  of  Insurance  against  the  Casualties  of  &c, 
&c.    London,  Charles  Knight  and  Company,  1830.    Price  two  shillings. 


STATISTICS. 


13 


expands  his  own  hand-breadth  of  observation  to  the  limits  of 
the  general  whole  ;  more  or  less,  each  man  must  take  what  he 
himself  has  seen  and  ascertained  for  a  sample  of  all  that  is 
seeable  and  ascertainable.  Hence  discrepancies,  controversies 
wide-spread,  long-continued  ;  which  there  is  at  present  no 
means  or  hope  of  satisfactorily  ending.  When  Parliament 
takes  up  the  '  Condition-of-England  question,'  as  it  will  have 
to  do  one  day,  then  indeed  much  may  be  amended!  Inquiries 
wisely  gone  into,  even  on  this  most  complex  matter,  will  yield 
results  worth  something,  not  nothing.  But  it  is  a  most  com- 
plex matter ;  on  which,  whether  for  the  past  or  the  present, 
Statistic  Inquiry,  with  its  limited  means,  with  its  short  vision 
and  headlong  extensive  dogmatism,  as  yet  too  often  throws 
not  light,  but  error  worse  than  darkness. 

What  constitutes  the  well-being  of  a  man  ?  Many  things  ; 
of  which  the  wages  he  gets,  and  the  bread  he  buys  with  them, 
are  but  one  preliminary  item.  Grant,  however,  that  the 
wages  were  the  whole  ;  that  once  knowing  the  wages  and  the 
price  of  bread,  we  know  all ;  then  what  are  the  wages  ? 
Statistic  Inquiry,  in  its  present  unguided  condition,  cannot 
tell.  The  average  rate  of  day's  wages  is  not  correctly  as- 
certained for  any  portion  of  this  country  ;  not  only  not  for 
half-centuries,  it  is  not  even  ascertained  anywhere  for  decades 
or  years  :  far  from  instituting  comparisons  with  the  past,  the 
present  itself  is  unknown  to  us.  And  then,  given  the  average 
of  wages,  what  is  the  constancy  of  employment ;  what  is  the 
difficulty  of  finding  employment ;  the  fluctuation  from  season 
to  season,  from  year  to  year?  Is  it  constant,  calculable 
wages  ;  or  fluctuating,  incalculable,  more  or  less  of  the  nature 
of  gambling?  This  secondary  circumstance,  of  quality  in 
wages,  is  perhaps  even  more  important  than  the  primary  one 
of  quantity.  Farther  we  ask,  Can  the  labourer,  by  thrift  and 
industry,  hope  to  rise  to  mastership  ;  or  is  such  hope  cut  off 
from  him  ?  How  is  he  related  to  his  employer  ;  by  bonds  of 
friendliness  and  mutual  help  ;  or  by  hostility,  opposition,  and 
chains  of  mutual  necessity  alone?  In  a  word,  what  degree  of 
contentment  can  a  human  creature  be  supposed  to  enjoy  in 
that  vontion?    With  hunger  preying  on  him,  his  content- 


14 


CHARTISM. 


ment  is  likely  to  be  small !  But  even  with  abundance,  Lis 
discontent,  bis  real  misery  may  be  great.  The  labourer's 
feelings,  bis  notion  of  being  justly  dealt  with  or  unjustly  ;  his 
wholesome  composure,  frugality,  prosperity  in  the  one  case, 
his  acrid  unrest,  recklessness,  gin-drinking,  and  gradual  ruin 
in  the  other, — how  shall  figures  of  arithmetic  represent  all 
this  ?  So  much  is  still  to  be  ascertained  ;  much  of  it  by  no 
means  easy  to  ascertain  !  Till,  among  the  'Hill  Cooly '  and 
'  Dog-cart '  questions,  there  arise  in  Parliament  and  extensively 
out  of  it  a  'Condition-of -England  question,'  and  quite  a  new  set 
of  inquirers  and  methods,  little  of  it  is  likely  to  be  ascertained. 

One  fact  on  this  subject,  a  fact  which  arithmetic  is  capable 
of  representing,  we  have  often  considered  would  be  worth  all 
the  rest :  whether  the  labourer,  whatever  his  wages  are,  is 
saving  money  ?  Laying  up  money,  he  proves  that  his  condi- 
tion, painful  as  it  may  be  without  and  within,  is  not  yet 
desperate  ;  that  he  looks  forward  to  a  better  day  coming,  and 
is  still  resolutely  steering  toward  the  same ;  that  all  the  lights 
and  darkness  of  his  lot  are  united  under  a  blessed  radiance 
of  hope, — the  last,  first,  nay  one  may  say  the  sole  blessedness 
of  man.  Is  the  habit  of  saving  increased  and  increasing,  or 
the  contrary  ?  Where  the  present  writer  has  been  able  to 
look  with  his  own  eyes,  it  is  decreasing,  and  in  many  quarters 
all  but  disappearing.  Statistic  science  turns  up  her"  Savings- 
Bank  Accounts,  and  answers,  "Increasing  rapidly."  Would 
that  one  could  believe  it !  But  the  Danaides'-sieve  character 
of  such  statistic  reticulated  documents  is  too  manifest.  A 
few  years  ago,  in  regions  where  thrift,  to  one's  own  knowledge, 
still  was,  Savings-Banks  were  not  ;  the  labourer  lent  his 
money  to  some  farmer,  of  capital,  or  supposed  to  be  of  capita], 
— and  has  too  often  lost  it  since  ;  or  he  bought  a  cow  with  it, 
bought  a  cottage  with  it ;  nay  hid  it  under  his  thatch  :  the 
S  a  in^s-Banks  books  then  exhibited  mere  blank  and  zero. 
That  they  swell  yearly  now,  if  such  be  the  fact,  indicates  that 
what  thrift  exists  does  gradually  resort  more  and  more  thither 
rather  than  olsewither  ;  but  the  question,  Is  thrift  increasing? 
runs  through  the  reticulation,  and  is  as  water  spilt  on  the 
ground,  not  to  be  gathered  here. 


NEW  POOR-LAW. 


15 


These  are  inquiries  on  which,  had  there  been  a  proper 
'  Condition-of-England  question,'  some  light  would  have  been 
thrown  before  '  torch-meetings '  arose  to  illustrate  them  ! 
For  as  they  lie  out  of  the  course  of  Parliamentary  routine, 
they  should  have  been  gone  into,  should  have  been  glanced 
at,  in  one  or  the  other  fashion.  A  Legislature  making  laws 
for  the  Working  Classes,  in  total  uncertainty  as  to  these  things, 
is  legislating  in  the  dark  ;  not  wisely,  nor  to  good  issues. 
The  simple  fundamental  question,  Can  the  labouring  man 
in  this  England  of  ours,  who  is  willing  to  labour,  find  work, 
and  subsistence  by  his  work?  is  matter  of  mere  conjecture 
and  assertion  hitherto  ;  not  ascertainable  by  authentic  evi- 
dence :  the  Legislature,  satisfied  to  legislate  in  the  dark,  has 
not  yet  sought  any  evidence  on  it.  They  pass  their  New 
Poor-Law  Bill,  without  evidence  as  to  all  this.  Perhaps  their 
New  Poor-Law  Bill  is  itself  only  intended  as  an  experimentum 
crucis  to  ascertain  all  this  ?  Chartism  is  an  answer,  seem- 
ingly not  in  the  affirmative. 


CHAPTER  III. 

NEW  POOR-LAW. 

To  read  the  Reports  of  the  Poor-Law  Commissioners,  if  one 
had  faith  enough,  would  be  a  pleasure  to  the  friend  of  hu- 
manity. One  sole  recipe  seems  to  have  been  needful  for  the 
woes  of  England  : 'refusal  of  out-door  relief.'  England  lay 
in  sick  discontent,  writhing  powerless  on  its  fever-bed,  dark, 
nigh  desperate,  in  wastefulness,  want,  improvidence,  and  eat- 
ing care,  till  like  Hyperion  down  the  eastern  steeps,  the  Poor- 
Law  Commissioners  arose,  and  said,  Let  there  be  workhouses, 
and  bread  of  affliction  and  water  of  affliction  there  !  It  was  a 
simple  invention  ;  as  all  truly  great  inventions  are.  And  see, 
in  any  quarter,  instantly  as  the  walls  of  the  workhouse  arise, 
misery  and  necessity  fly  away,  out  of  sight, — out  of  being,  as 
is  fondly  hoped,  and  dissolve  into  the  inane  ;  industry,  fru- 
gality, fertility,  rise  of  wages,  peace  on  earth  and  goodwill 
towards  men  do, — in  the  Poor-Law  Commissioners'  Reports, 


10 


CHARTISM. 


— infallibly,  rapidly  or  not  so  rapidly,  to  the  joy  of  all  parties, 
supervene.  It  was  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be  wished. 
We  have  looked  over  these  four  annual  Poor-Law  Reports 
with  a  variety  of  reflections  ;  wTith  no  thought  that  our  Poor- 
Law  Commissioners  are  the  inhuman  men  their  enemies 
accuse  them  of  being  ;  with  a  feeling  of  thankfulness  rather 
that  there  do  exist  men  of  that  structure  too  ;  with  a  persua- 
sion deeper  and  deeper  that  Nature,  who  makes  nothing  to  no 
purpose,  has  not  made  either  them  or  their  Poor-Law  Amend- 
ment Act  in  vain.  We  hope  to  prove  that  they  and  it  were 
an  indispensable  element,  harsh  but  salutary,  in  the  progress 
of  things. 

That  this  Poor-Law  Amendment  Act  meanwhile  should  be, 
as  we  sometimes  hear  it  named,  the  '  chief  glory '  of  a  Reform 
Cabinet,  betokens,  one  would  imagine,  rather  a  scarcity  of 
glory  there.  To  say  to  the  poor,  Ye  shall  eat  the  bread  of 
affliction  and  drink  the  water  of  affliction  and  be  very  miser- 
able while  here,  required  not  so  much  a  stretch  of  heroic 
faculty  in  any  sense,  as  due  toughness  of  bowels.  ,  If  paupers 
are  made  miserable,  paupers  will  needs  decline  in  multitude. 
It  is  a  secret  known  to  all  rat-catchers  :  stop  up  the  granary- 
crevices,  afflict  with  continual  mewing,  alarm,  and  going-off 
of  traps,  your  '  chargeable  labourers '  disappear,  and  cease 
from  the  establishment.  A  still  briefer  method  is  that  of  ar- 
senic :  perhaps  even  a  milder,  where  otherwise  permissible. 
Rats  and  paupers  can  be  abolished ;  the  human  faculty  was 
from  of  old  adequate  to  grind  them  down,  slowly  or  at  once, 
and  needed  no  ghost  or  Reform  Ministry  to  teach  it.  Fur- 
thermore when  one  hears  of  '  all  the  labour  of  the  country 
being  absorbed  into  employment '  by  this  new  system  of 
affliction,  when  labour  complaining  of  want  can  find  no  audi- 
ence, one  cannot  but  pause.  That  misery  and  unemployed 
labour  should  'disappear'  in  that  case  is  natural  enough; 
should  go  out  of  sight— but  out  of  existence?  What  wo  do 
know  is  that  'the  rates  are  diminished,' as  they  cannot  well 
help  being  ;  that  no  statistic  tables  as  yet  report  much  in- 
crease of  deaths  hy  starvation  :  this  we  do  know,  and  not 
very  conclusively  anything  more  than  this.   If  this  be  absorp- 


NEW  POOR-LAW. 


17 


tion  of  all  the  labour  of  the  country,  then  all  the  labour  of 
the  country  is  absorbed. 

To  believe  practically  that  the  poor  and  luckless  are  here 
only  as  a  nuisance  to  be  abraded  and  abated,  and  in  some 
permissible  manner  made  away  with,  and  swept  out  of  sight, 
is  not  an  amiable  faith.  That  the  arrangements  of  good  and 
ill  success  in  this  perplexed  scramble  of  a  world,  which  a 
blind  goddess  was  always  thought  to  preside  over,  are  in  fact 
the  work  of  a  seeing  goddess  or  god,  and  require  only  not  to 
be  meddled  with  :  what  stretch  of  heroic  faculty  or  inspira- 
tion of  genius  was  needed  to  teach  one  that  ?  To  button 
your  pockets  and  stand  still,  is  no  complex  recipe.  Laissez 
faire,  laissez  passer !  Whatever  goes  on,  ought  it  not  to  go 
on  ;  '  the  widow  picking  nettles  for  her  children's  dinner,  and 
'the  perfumed  seigneur  delicately  lounging  in  the  CEil-de- 
'  Bceuf,  who  has  an  alchemy  whereby  he  will  extract  from 
'  her  the  third  nettle,  and  name  it  rent  and  law  ?  '  "What  is 
written  and  enacted,  has  it  not  black-on-white  to  shew  for  it- 
self? Justice  is  justice;  but  all  attorney's  parchment  is  of 
the  nature  of  Targum  or  sacred-parchment.  In  brief,  ours  is 
a  world  requiring  only  to  be  well  let  alone.  Scramble  along, 
thou  insane  scramble  of  a  world,  with  thy  pope's  tiaras,  king's 
mantles  and  beggar's  gabardines,  chivalry-ribbons  and  ple- 
beian gallows-ropes,  where  a  Paul  shall  die  on  the  gibbet  and 
a  Nero  sit  fiddling  as  imperial  Caesar  ;  thou  art  all  right,  and 
shalt  scramble  even  so  ;  and  whoever  in  the  press  is  trodden 
down,  has  only  to  lie  there  and  be  trampled  broad  : — Such  at 
bottom  seems  to  be  the  chief  social  principle,  if  principle  it 
have,  which  the  Poor-Law  Amendment  Act  has  the  merit  of 
courageously  asserting,  in  opposition  to  many  things.  A 
chief  social  principle  which  this  present  writer,  for  one,  will 
by  no  manner  of  means  believe  in,  but  pronounce  at  all  lit 
times  to  be  false,  heretical  and  damnable,  if  ever  aught  was  ! 

And  yet,  as  we  said,  Nature  makes  nothing  in  vain  ;  not 
even  a  Poor-Law  Amendment  Act.  For  withal  we  are  far 
from  joining  in  the  outcry  raised  against  these  Poor-Law 
Commissioners,  as  if  they  were  tigers  in  men's  shape  ;  as  if 
their  Amendment  Act  were  a  mere  monstrosity  and  horror, 
2 


18 


CHARTISM. 


deserving  instant  abrogation.  They  are  not  tigers  ;  they  are 
men  filled  with  an  idea  of  a  theory  ;  their  Amendment  Act, 
heretical  and  damnable  as  a  whole  truth,  is  orthodox  laudable 
as  a  half  truth ;  and  was  imperatively  required  to  be  put  in 
practice.  To  create  men  filled  with  a  theory  that  refusal  of 
out-door  relief  was  the  one  thing  needful  :  Nature  had  no 
readier  way  of  getting  out-door  relief  refused.  In  fact,  if  we 
look  at  the  old  Poor  Law,  in  its  assertion  of  the  opposite 
social  principle,  that  Fortune's  awards  are  not  those  of  Justice, 
we  shall  find  it  to  have  become  still  more  un supportable,  de- 
manding, if  England  was  not  destined  for  speedy  anarchy,  to 
be  done  away  with. 

Any  law,  however  well  meant  as  a  law,  which  has  become 
a  bounty  on  unthrift,  idleness,  bastardy  and  beer-drinking, 
must  be  put  an  end  to.  In  all  ways  it  needs,  especially  in 
these  times,  to  be  proclaimed  aloud  that  for  the  idle  man  there 
is  no  place  in  this  England  of  ours.  He  that  will  not  work, 
and  save  according  to  his  means,  let  him  go  elsewhither  ;  let 
him  know  that  for  him  the  Law  has  made  no  soft  provision, 
but  a  hard  and  stern  one  ;  that  by  the  Law  of  Nature,  which 
the  Law  of  England  would  vainly  contend  against  in  the  long- 
run,  he  is  doomed  either  to  quit  these  habits,  or  miserably  be 
extruded  from  this  Earth,  which  is  made  on  principles  dif- 
ferent from  these.  He  that  will  not  work  according  to  his 
faculty,  let  him  perish  according  to  his  necessity  :  there  is  no 
law  juster  than  that.  Would  to  heaven  one  could  preach  it 
abroad  into  the  hearts  of  all  sons  and  daughters  of  Adam,  for 
it  is  a  law  applicable  to  all ;  and  bring  it  to  bear,  with  prac- 
tical obligation  strict  as  the  Poor-Law  Bastille,  on  all.  We 
had  then,  in  good  truth,  a  '  perfect  constitution  of  society  ; ' 
and  '  God's  fair  Earth  and  Task-garden,  where  whosoever  is 
not  working  must  be  begging  or  stealing,'  were  then  actually 
what  always,  through  so  many  changes  and  struggles,  it  is  en- 
deavoring to  become. 

That  this  law  of  No  work  no  recompense,  should  first  of  al] 
be  enforced  on  the  manual  worker,  and  brought  stringently 
home  to  him  and  his  numerous  class,  while  so  many  oilier 
classes  and  persons  still  go  loose  from  it,  was  natural  to  tho 


NEW  POOR-LAW. 


19 


case.  Let  it  be  enforced  there,  and  rigidly  made  good.  It 
behoves  to  be  enforced  everywhere,  and  rigidly  made  good  ; — 
alas,  not  by  such  simple  methods  as  '  refusal  of  outdoor  re- 
lief,' but  by  far  other  and  costlier  ones  ;  which  too,  however, 
a  bountiful  Providence  is  not  unfurnished  with,  nor,  in  these 
hitter  generations  (if  we  will  understand  their  convulsions  and 
confusions),  sparing  to  apply.  Work  is  the  mission  of  man 
in  this  Earth.  A  day  is  ever  struggling  forward,  a  day  will 
arrive  in  some  approximate  degree,  when  he  who  has  no  work 
to  do,  by  whatever  name  he  may  be  named,  will  not  find  it 
good  to  show  himself  in  our  quarter  of  the  Solar  System ;  but 
may  go  and  look  out  elsewhere.  If  there  be  any  Idle  Planet 
discoverable  ? — Let  the  honest  wrorking  man  rejoice  that  such 
law,  the  first  of  Nature,  has  been  made  good  on  him  ;  and 
hope  that,  by  and  by,  all  else  will  be  made  good.  It  is  the 
beginning  of  all.  We  define  the  harsh  New  Poor-Law  to  be 
withal  a  '  protection  of  the  thrifty  labourer  against  the  thrift- 
less and  dissolute  ; '  a  thing  inexpressibly  important ;  a  half- 
result,  detestable,  if  you  will,  when  looked  upon  as  the  whole 
result ;  yet  without  which  the  whole  result  is  forever  unat- 
tainable. ,  Let  wastefulness,  idleness,  drunkenness,  improvi- 
dence take  the  fate  which  God  has  apjjointed  them  ;  that 
their  opposites  may  also  have  a  chance  for  their  fate.  Let  the 
Poor-Law  Administrators  be  considered  as  useful  labourers 
whom  Nature  has  furnished  with  a  whole  theory  of  the  uni- 
verse, that  they  might  accomplish  an  indispensable  fractional 
practice  there,  and  prosper  in  it  in  spite  of  much  contradic- 
tion. 

We  will  praise  the  New  Poor-Law,  farther,  as  the  probable 
preliminary  of  some  general  charge  to  be  taken  of  the  lowest 
classes  by  the  higher.  Any  general  charge  whatsoever,  rather 
than  a  conflict  of  charges,  varying  from  parish  to  parish  ;  the 
emblem  of  darkness,  of  unreadable  confusion.  Supervisal  by 
the  central  government,  in  what  spirit  soever  executed,  is 
supervisal  from  a  centre.  By  degrees  the  object  will  become 
clearer,  as  it  is  at  once  made  thereby  universally  conspicuous. 
By  degrees  true  vision  of  it  wall  become  attainable,  will  be 
universally  attained;  whatsoever  order  regarding  it  is  just 


20 


CHARTISM. 


and  wise,  as  grounded  on  the  truth  of  it,  will  then  be  capable 
of  being  taken.  Let  us  welcome  the  New  Poor-Law  as  the 
harsh  beginning  of  much,  the  harsh  ending  of  much  !  Most 
harsh  and  barren  lies  the  new  ploughers'  fallow-field,  the 
crude  subsoil  all  turned  up,  which  never  saw  the  sun  ;  which 
as  yet  grows  no  herb  ;  which  has  'out-door  relief  for  no  one. 
Yet  patience  :  innumerable  weeds  and  corruptions  lie  safely 
turned  down  and  extinguished  under  it ;  this  same  crude 
subsoil  is  the  first  step  of  all  true  husbandry ;  by  Heaven's 
blessing  and  the  skyey  influences,  fruits  that  are  good  and 
blessed  will  yet  come  of  it. 

For,  in  truth,  the  claim  of  the  poor  labourer  is  something 
quite  other  than  that  '  Statute  of  the  Forty-third  of  Eliza- 
beth '  will  ever  fulfil  for  him.  Not  to  be  supported  by  rounds- 
men systems,  by  never  so  liberal  parish  doles,  or  lodged  in 
free  and  easy  workhouses  when  distress  overtakes  him ;  not 
for  this,  however  in  words  he  may  clamour  for  it ;  not  for 
this,  but  for  something  far  different  does  the  heart  of  him 
struggle.  It  is  'for  justice'  that  he  struggles;  for  'just 
wages/ — not  in  money  alone !  An  ever-toiling  inferior,  he 
would  fain  (though  as  yet  he  knows  it  not)  find  for  himself  a 
superior  that  should  lovingly  and  wisely  govern  :  is  not  that 
too  the  'just  wages'  of  his  service  done?  It  is  for  a  manlike 
place  and  relation,  in  this  world  where  he  sees  himself  a  man, 
that  he  struggles.  At  bottom  may  we  not  say  it  is  even  for 
this,  That  guidance  and  government,  which  he  cannot  give 
himself,  wThich  in  our  so  complex  world  he  can  no  longer  do 
without,  might  be  afforded  him  ?  The  thing  he  struggles  for 
is  one  which  no  Forty-third  of  Elizabeth  is  in  any  condition 
to  furnish  him,  to  put  him  on  the  road  towards  getting.  Let 
him  quit  the  Forty- third  of  Elizabeth  altogether  ;  and  rejoice 
that  the  Poor-Law  Amendment  Act  has,  even  by  harsh  meth- 
ods and  against  his  own  will,  forced  him  away  from  it.  That 
was  a  broken  reed  to  lean  on,  if  there  ever  was  one  ;  and  did 
but  run  into  his  lamed  right-hand.  Let  him  cast  it  far  from 
him,  that  broken  iced,  and  look  to  quite  the  opposite  point 
of  the  heavens  for  help.  His  unlamed  right-hand,  with  the 
cunning  industry  that  lies  in  it,  is  not  this  defined  to  be  '  the 


FINEST  PEASANTRY  IN  THE  WOULD. 


2J 


sceptre  of  our  Planet '  ?  He  that  can  work  is  a  born  king  of 
something ;  is  in  communion  with  Nature,  is  master  of  a  thing 
or  things,  is  a  priest  and  king  of  Nature  so  far.  He  that  can 
work  at  nothing  is  but  a  usurping  king,  be  his  trappings  what 
they  may  ;  he  is  the  born  slave  of  all  things.  Let  a  man 
honour  his  craftsmanship,  his  can-do ;  and  know  that  his 
rights  of  man  have  no  concern  at  all  with  the  Forty-third  of 
Elizabeth. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FINEST  PEASANTKY  IX  THE  WOULD. 

The  New  Poor-Law  is  an  announcement,  sufficiently  dis- 
tinct, that  whosoever  will  not  work,  ought  not  to  live.  Can 
the  poor  man  that  is  willing  to  work,  always  find  work,  and 
live  by  his  work  ?  Statistic  Inquiry,  as  we  saw,  has  no  an- 
swer to  give.  Legislation  presupposes  the  answer — to  be  in 
the  affirmative.  A  large  postulate  ;  which  should  have  been 
made  a  proposition  of  ;  which  should  have  been  demonstrated, 
made  indubitable  to  all  persons  !  A  man  willing  to  work,  and 
unable  to  find  work,  is  perhaps  the  saddest  sight  that  Fort- 
une's inequality  exhibits  under  this  sun.  Burns  expresses 
feelingly  what  thoughts  it  gave  him  ;  a  poor  man  seeking 
work  ;  seeking  leave  to  toil  that  he  might  be  fed  and  shel- 
tered !  That  he  might  be  put  on  a  level  with  the  four-footed 
workers  of  the  Planet  which  is  his  !  There  is  not  a  horse 
willing  to  work  but  can  get  food  and  shelter  in  requital ;  a 
thing  this  two-footed  worker  has  to  seek  for,  to  solicit  occa- 
sionally in  vain.  He  is  nobody's  two-footed  worker  ;  he  is  not 
even  anybody's  slave.  And  yet  he  is  a  two-looted  worker  ; 
it  is  currently  reported  there  is  an  immortal  soul  in  him,  sent 
down  out  of  Heaven  into  the  Earth  ;  and  one  beholds  him 
seeking  for  this  ! — Nay  what  will  a  wise  Legislature  say,  if  it 
turn  out  that  he  cannot  find  it ;  that  the  answer  to  their  pos- 
tulate proposition  is  not  affirmative  but  negative  ? 

There  is  one  fact  which  Statistic  Science  has  communicated, 
and  a  most  astonishing  one  ;  the  inference  from  which  is  preg- 
nant as  to  this  matter.    Ireland  has  near  seven  millions  of 


22 


CHARTISM. 


working  people,  the  third  unit  of  whom,  it  appears  by  Statis- 
tic Science,  has  not  for  thirty  weeks  each  year  as  many  third- 
rate  potatoes  as  will  suffice  him.  It  is  a  fact  perhaps  the  most 
eloquent  that  was  ever  written  down  in  any  language,  at  any 
date  of  the  world's  history.  "Was  change  and  reformation 
j  needed  in  Ireland?  Has  Ireland  been  governed  and  guided 
in  a  '  wise  and  loving  '  manner  ?  A  government  and  guidance 
of  white  European  men  which  has  issued  in  perennial  hun- 
ger of  potatoes  to  the  third  man  extant, — ought  to  drop  a 
veil  over  its  face,  and  walk  out  of  court  under  conduct  of 
proper  officers  ;  saying  no  word  ;  expecting  now  of  a  surety 
sentence  either  to  change  or  die.  All  men,  we  must  repeat, 
were  made  by  God,  and  have  immortal  souls  in  them.  The 
Sanspotatoe  is  of  the  selfsame  stuff  as  the  superfinest  Lord 
Lieutenant.  Not  an  individual  Sanspotatoe  human  scarecrow 
but  had  a  Life  given  him  out  of  Heaven,  with  Eternities  de- 
pending on  it ;  for  once  and  no  second  time.  With  Immensi- 
ties in  him,  over  him  and  round  him  ;  with  feelings  which  a 
Shakspeare's  speech  would  not  utter  ;  with  desires  illimitable 
as  the  Autocrat's  of  all  the  Russias !  Him  various  thrice- 
honoured  persons,  things  and  institutions  have  long  been 
teaching,  long  been  guiding,  governing  :  and  it  is  to  perpetual 
scarcity  of  third-rate  potatoes,  and  to  what  depends  thereon, 
that  he  has  been  taught  and  guided.  Figure  thyself,  O  high- 
minded,  clear-headed,  clean-burnished  reader,  clapt  by  en- 
chantment into  the  torn  coat  and  waste  hunger-lair  of  that 
same  root-devouring  brother  man  ! — 

Social  anomalies  are  things  to  be  defended,  tilings  to  be 
amended  ;  and  in  all  places  and  things,  short  of  the  Pit  itself, 
there  is  some  admixture  of  worth  and  good.  Room  for  ex- 
tenuation, for  pity,  for  patience  !  And  yet  when  the  general 
result  has  come  to  the  length  of  perennial  starvation,— yes, 
then  argument,  extenuating  logic,  pity  and  patience  on  that 
subject  may  be  considered  as  drawing  to  a  close.  It  may  be 
considered  that  such  arrangement  of  things  will  have  to  termi- 
nate. That  it  has  all  just  men  for  its  natural  enemies.  That 
all  just  men,  of  what  outward  colour  soever  in  Politics  or 
otherwise,  will  say :  This  cannot  last,  Heaven  disowns  it, 


FINEST  PEASANTRY  IN  THE  WORLD.  23 


Earth  is  against  it ;  Ireland  will  be  burnt  into  a  black  unpeo- 
pled field  of  ashes  rather  than  this  should  last. — The  woes  of 
Ireland,  or  'justice  to  Ireland,'  is  not  the  chapter  we  have  to 
write  at  present.  It  is  a  deep  matter,  an  abysmal  one,  which 
no  plummet  of  ours  will  sound.  For  the  oppression  has  gone 
far  farther  than  into  the  economies  of  Ireland  ;  inwards  to  her 
very  heart  and  soul.  The  Irish  National  character  is  degraded, 
disordered  ;  till  this  recover  itself,  nothing  is  yet  recovered. 
Immethodic,  headlong,  violent,  mendacious  ;  what  can  you 
make  of  the  wretched  Irishman?  "A  finer  people  never 
lived,"  as  the  Irish  lady  said  to  us  ;  "  only  they  have  two  faults, 
they  do  generally  lie  and  steal :  barring  these  '* —  !  A  people 
that  knows  not  to  speak  the  truth,  and  to  act  the  truth,  such 
people  has  departed  from  even  the  possibility  of  well-being. 
Such  people  works  no  longer  on  Nature  and  Reality  ;  works 
now  on  Fantasm,  Simulation,  Nonentity  ;  the  result  it  arrives 
at  is  naturally  not  a  thing  but  no-thing, — defect  even  of  po- 
tatoes. Scarcity,  futility,  confusion,  distraction  must  be  peren- 
nial there.  Such  a  people  circulates  not  order  but  disorder, 
through  every  vein  of  it  ; — and  the  cure,  if  it  is  to  be  a  cure, 
must  begin  at  the  heart :  not  in  his  condition  only  but  in  him- 
self must  the  Patient  be  all  changed.  Poor  Ireland  !  And  yet 
let  no  true  Irishman,  who  believes  and  sees  all  this,  despair 
by  reason  of  it.  Cannot  he  too  do  something  to  withstand 
the  unproductive  falsehood,  there  as  it  lies  accursed  around 
him,  and  change  it  into  truth,  which  is  fruitful  and  blessed  ? 
Every  mortal  can  and  shall  himself  be  a  true  man  :  it  is  a  great 
thing,  and  the  parent  of  great  things  ; — as  from  a  single  acorn 
the  whole  earth  might  in  the  end  be  peopled  with  oaks  ! 
Every  mortal  can  do  something  :  this  let  him  faithfully  do, 
and  leave  with  assured  heart  the  issue  to  a  Higher  Power ! 

We  English  pay,  even  now,  the  bitter  smart  of  long  centu- 
ries of  injustice  to  our  neighbour  Island.  Injustice,  doubt  it 
not,  abounds  ;  or  Ireland  would  not  be  miserable.  The  Earth 
is  good,  bountifully  sends  food  and  increase  ;  if  man's  unwis- 
dom did  not  intervene  and  forbid.  It  was  an  evil  day  when 
Strigul  first  meddled  with  that  people.  He  could  not  extir- 
pate them  :  could  they  but  have  agreed  together,  and  extir- 


24 


CHARTISM. 


pated  him  !  Violent  men  there  have  been,  and  merciful ;  un- 
just rulers,  and  just  ;  conflicting  in  a  great  element  of  violence, 
these  five  wild  centuries  now  ;  and  the  violent  and  unjust  have 
carried  it,  and  we  are  come  to  this.  England  is  guilty  towards 
Ireland  ;  and  reaps  at  last,  in  full  measure,  the  fruit  of  fifteen 
generations  of  wrong-doing. 

But  the  thing  we  had  to  state  here  was  our  inference  from 
that  mournful  fact  of  the  third  Sanspotatoe,— coupled  with 
this  other  well-known  fact  that  the  Irish  speak  a  partially  in- 
telligible dialect  of  English,  and  their  fare  across  by  steam  is 
four-pence  sterling !  Crowds  of  miserable  Irish  darken  all 
our  towns.  The  wild  Milesian  features,  looking  false  inge- 
nuity, restlessness,  unreason,  misery  and  mockery,  salute  you 
on  all  highways  and  by-ways.  The  English  coachman,  as  he 
whirls  past,  lashes  the  Milesian  with  his  whip,  curses  him  with 
his  tongue  ;  the  Milesian  is  holding  out  his  hat  to  beg.  He  is 
the  sorest  evil  this  country  has  to  strive  with.  In  his  rags  and 
laughing  savagery,  he  is  there  to  undertake  all  work  that  can 
be  done  by  mere  strength  of  hand  and  back  ;  for  wages  that 
will  purchase  him  potatoes.  He  needs  only  salt  for  condi- 
ment ;  he  lodges  to  his  mind  in  any  pighutch  or  doghutch, 
roosts  in  outhouses  ;  and  wears  a  suit  of  tatters,  the  getting 
off  and  on  of  which  is  said  to  be  a  difficult  operation,  trans- 
acted only  in  festivals  and  the  hightides  of  the  calendar.  The 
Saxon  man  if  he  cannot  work  on  these  terms,  finds  no  work. 
He  too  may  be  ignorant  ;  but  he  has  not  sunk  from  decent 
manhood  to  squalid  apehood  :  he  cannot  continue  there. 
American  forests  lie  untilled  across  the  ocean  ;  the  uncivilised 
Irishman,  not  by  his  strength  but  by  the  opposite  of  strength, 
drives  out  the  Saxon  native,  takes  possession  in  his  room. 
There  abides  he,  in  his  squalor  and  unreason,  in  his  falsity 
and  drunken  violence,  as  the  ready-made  nucleus  of  degra- 
dation and  disorder.  Whosoever  struggles,  swimming  with 
difficulty,  may  now  find  an  example  how  the  human  being  can 
exist  not  swimming  but  sunk.  Let  him  sink  ;  he  is  not  the 
worst  of  men  ;  not  worse  than  this  man.  We  have  quarentines 
against  pestilence  ;  but  there  is  no  pestilence  like  that ;  and 
against  it  what  quarentinc  is  possible  ?    It  is  lamentable  to  look 


FINEST  PEASANTRY  IN  THE  WOULD. 


25 


upon.  This  soil  of  Britain,  these  Saxon  men  have  cleared  it, 
made  it  arable,  fertile  and  a  home  for  them  ;  they  and  their 
fathers  have  done  that.  Under  the  sky  there  exists  no  force  of 
men  who  with  arms  in  their  hands  could  drive  them  out  of  it ;  all 
force  of  men  with  arms  these  Saxons  would  seize,  in  their  grim 
way,  and  fling  (Heaven's  justice  and  their  own  S:ixon  humour 
aiding  them)  swiftly  into  the  sea.  But  behold,  a  force  of  men 
armed  only  with  rags,  ignorance  and  nakedness  ;  and  the 
Saxon  owners,  paralysed  by  invisible  magic  of  paper  formula, 
have  to  fly  far,  and  hide  themselves  in  Transatlantic  forests. 
'Irish  repeal?'  "Would  to  God,"  as  Dutch  William  said, 
"  You  were  King  of  Ireland,  and  could  take  yourself  and  it 
three  thousand  miles  off,"— there  to  repeal  it ! 

And  yet  these  poor  Celtiberian  Irish  brothers,  what  can  they 
help  it  ?  They  cannot  stay  at  home,  and  starve.  It  is  just 
and  natural  that  they  come  hither  as  a  curse  to  us.  Alas,  for 
them  too  it  is  not  a  luxury.  It  is  not  a  straight  or  joyful  way 
of  avenging  their  sore  wrongs  this  ;  but  a  most  sad  circuitous 
one.  Yet  a  way  it  is,  and  an  effectual  way.  The  time  has 
come  when  the  Irish  population  must  either  be  improved  a 
little,  or  else  exterminated.  Plausible  management,  adapted 
to  this  hollow  outcry  or  to  that,  will  no  longer  do  :  it  must  be 
management,  grounded  on  sincerity  and  fact,  to  which  the 
truth  of  things  will  respond — by  an  actual  beginning  of  im- 
provement to  these  wretched  brother-men.  In  a  state  of  per- 
ennial ultra-savage  famine,  in  the  midst  of  civilisation,  they 
cannot  continue.  For  that  the  Saxon  British  will  ever  submit 
to  sink  along  with  them  to  such  a  state,  we  assume  as  impos- 
sible. There  is  in  these  latter,  thank  God,  an  ingenuity  which 
is  not  false  ;  a  methodic  spirit,  of  insight,  of  perseverant  well- 
doing ;  a  rationality  and  veracity  which  Nature  with  her  truth 
does  not  disown  ; — withal  there  is  a  '  Berserkir-rage  '  in  the 
heart  of  them,  which  will  prefer  all  things,  including  destruc- 
tion and  self-destruction,  to  that.  Let  no  man  awaken  it,  this 
same  Berserkir-rage !  Deep-hidden  it  lies,  far  down  in  the 
centre,  like  genial  central  fire,  with  stratum  after  stratum 
of  arrangement,  traditionary  method,  composed  productive- 
ness, all  built  above  it,  vivified  and  rendered  fertile  by  it : 


26 


CHARTISM. 


justice,  clearness,  silence,  perseverance,  unhasting  unresting 
diligence,  hatred  of  disorder,  hatred  of  injustice  which  is  the 
worst  disorder,  characterise  this  people  ;  their  inward  fire  we 
say,  as  all  such  fire  should  be,  is  hidden  at  the  centre.  Deep- 
hidden  ;  but  awakenable,  but  immeasurable  ; — let  no  man 
awaken  it !  ••With  this  strong  silent  people  have  the  noisy 
vehement  Irish  now  at  length  got  common  cause  made.  Ire- 
land, now  for  the  first  time,  in  such  strange  circuitous  way, 
does  find  itself  embarked  in  the  same  boat  with  England,  to 
sail  together  or  to  sink  together  ;  the  wretchedness  of  Ireland, 
slowly  but  inevitably,  has  crept  over  to  us,  and  become  our 
own  wretchedness.  The  Irish  population  must  get  itself  re- 
dressed and  saved,  for  the  sake  of  the  English  if  for  nothing 
else.  Alas,  that  it  should,  on  both  sides,  be  poor  toiling  men 
that  pay  the  smart  for  unruly  Striguls,  Plantagenets,  Mac- 
dermots,  and  O'Donoghues  !  The  strong  have  eaten  sour 
grapes,  and  the  teeth  of  the  weak  are  set  on  edge.  '  Curses/ 
says  the  Proverb,  'are  like  chickens,  they  return  always 
home.' 

But  now  on  the  whole,  it  seems  to  us,  English  Statistic  Sci- 
ence, with  floods  of  the  finest  peasantry  in  the  world  stream- 
ing in  on  us  daily,  may  fold  up  her  Danaides  reticulations  on 
this  matter  of  the  Working  Classes  ;  and  conclude,  what  every 
man  who  will  take  the  statistic  spectacles  off  his  nose,  and 
look,  may  discern  in  town  or  country  :  That  the  condition  of 
the  lower  multitude  of  English  labourers  approximates  more 
and  more  to  that  of  the  Irish  competing  with  them  in  all 
markets ;  that  whatsoever  labour,  to  which  mere  strength 
with  little  skill  will  suffice,  is  to  be  done,  will  be  done  not  at 
the  English  price,  but  at  an  approximation  to  the  Irish  price  : 
at  a  price  superior  as  yet  to  the  Irish,  that  is,  superior  to 
scarcity  of  third-rate  potatoes  for  thirty  weeks  yearly ;  su- 
perior, yet  hourly,  with  the  arrival  of  every  new  steamboat, 
sinking  nearer  to  an  equality  with  that.  Hal f-a- million  hand- 
loom  weavers,  working  fifteen  hours  a  day,  in  perpetual  ina- 
bility to  procure  thereby  enough  of  the  coarsest  food  ;  Eng- 
lish farm-labourers  at  nine  shillings  and  at  seven  shillings  a 
week  ;  Scotch  farm-labourers  who,  1  in  districts  the  half  of 


FINEST  PEASANTRY  IN  THE  WORLD 


27 


whose  husbandry  is  that  of  cows,  taste  no  milk,  can  procure 
no  milk  ; '  all  these  things  are  credible  to  us  ;  several  of  them 
are  known  to  us  by  the  best  evidence,  by  eyesight.  With  all 
this  it  is  consistent  that  the  wages  of  '  skilled  labour,'  as  it  is 
called,  should  in  many  cases  be  higher  than  they  ever  were  : 
the  giant  Steam  engine  in  a  giant  English  Nation  will  here 
create  violent  demand  for  labour,  and  will  there  annihilate 
demand.  But,  alas,  the  great  portion  is  not  skilled  :  the  mil- 
lions are  and  must  be  skilless,  where  strength  alone  is 
wanted ;  ploughers,  delvers,  borers  ;  hewers  of  wood  and 
drawers  of  water  ;  menials  of  the  Steam  engine  only  the  chief 
menials  and  immediate  frorf?/-servants  of  which  require  skill. 
English  Commerce  stretches  its  fibres  over  the  whole  Earth  ; 
sensitive  literally,  nay  quivering  in  convulsion,  to  the  farthest 
influences  of  the  Earth.  The  huge  demon  of  Mechanism 
smokes  and  thunders,  panting  at  his  great  task,  in  all  sections 
of  English  land  ;  changing  his  shape  like  a  very  Proteus  ;  and 
infallibly  at  every  change  of  shape,  oversetting  whole  multi- 
tudes of  workmen,  and  as  if  with  the  waving  of  his  shadow 
from  afar,  hurling  them  asunder,  this  way  and  that,  in  their 
crowded  march  and  course  of  work  or  traffic  ;  so  that  the 
wisest  no  longer  knows  his  whereabout.  "With  an  Ireland 
pouring  daily  in  on  us,  in  these  circumstances ;  deluging  us 
down  to  its  own  waste  confusion,  outward  and  inward,  it 
seems  a  cruel  mockery  to  tell  poor  drudges  that  their  con- 
dition is  improving. 

QNew  Poor-Law  !  Laissez-faire,  laisser-passer  !  The  master 
of  horses,  when  the  summer  labour  is  done,  has  to  feed  his 
horses  through  the  winter.  If  he  said  to  his  horses  :  "  Quad- 
rupeds, I  have  no  longer  work  for  you ;  but  work  exists 
abundantly  over  the  world  :  are  you  ignorant  (or  must  I  read 
you  Political-Economy  Lectures)  that  the  Steamengine  always 
in  the  long-run  creates  additional  work  ?  Railways  are  form- 
ing in  one  quarter  of  this  earth,  canals  in  another,  much 
cartage  is  wanted  :  somewhere  in  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  or 
America,  doubt  it  not,  ye  will  find  cartage  :  go  and  seek 
cartage,  and  good  go  with  you ! "  They  with  protrusive 
upper  lip,  snort  dubious  ;  signifying  that  Europe,  Asia,  Africa, 


28  CHARTISM. 

and  America  He  somewhat  out  of  their  beat :  that  what  cart- 
age may  be  wanted  there  is  not  too  well  known  to  them. 
They  can  find  no  cartage.  They  gallop  distracted  along  high- 
ways, all  fenced  in  to  the  right  and  to  the  left :  finally,  under 
pains  of  hunger,  they  take  to  leaping  fences  ;  eating  foreign 
property,  and — we  know  the  rest.  Ah,  it  is  not  a  joyful 
mirth,  it  is  sadder  than  tears,  the  laugh  Humanity  is  forced  to, 
at  Laissez-faire  applied  to  poor  peasants,  in  a  world  like  our 
Europe  of  the  year  1839  !  J 

So  much  can  observation  altogether  unstatistic,  looking  only 
at  a  Drogheda  or  Dublin  steamboat,  ascertain  for  itself. 
Another  thing,  likewise  ascertainable  on  this  vast  obscure 
matter,  excites  a  superficial  surprise,  but  only  a  superficial  one  : 
-^•That  it  is  the  best-paid  workmen  who,  by  Strikes,  Trades- 
unions,  Chartism,  and  the  like,  complain  the  most.  No  doubt 
of  it !  The  best-paid  workmen  are  they  alone  that  can  so 
complain  L>  How  shall  he,  the  handloom  weaver,  who  in  the 
day  that  is  passing  over  him  has  to  find  food  for  the  day, 
strike  work  ?  If  he  strike  work,  he  starves  within  the  week. 
He  is  past  complaint ! — The  fact  itself,  however,  is  one  which, 
if  we  consider  it,  leads  us  into  still  deeper  regions  of  the 
roalady.  Wages,  it  would  appear,  are  no  index  of  well-being 
to  the  working  man  :  without  proper  wages  there  can  be  no 
well-being  ;  but  with  them  also  there  may  be  none.  Wages 
of  working  men  differ  greatly  in  different  quarters  of  this 
country  ;  according  to  the  researches  or  the  guess  of  Mr. 
Symmons,  an  intelligent  humane  inquirer,  they  vary  in  the 
ratio  of  not  less  than  three  to  one.  Cotton-spinners,  as  we  learn , 
are  generally  well  paid,  while  employed  ;  their  wages,  ©ne 
week  with  another,  wives  and  children  all  working,  amount  to 
sums  which,  if  well  laid  out,  were  fully  adequate  to  comfort- 
able living.  And  yet,  alas,  there  seems  little  question  that 
comfort  or  reasonable  well-being  is  as  much  a  stranger  in 
these  households  as  in  any.  At  the  cold  hearth  of  the  ever- 
toiling,  ever-hungering  weaver,  dwells  at  least  some  equability, 
fixation  as  if  in  perennial  ice  :  hope  never  comes  ;  but  also 
irregular  impatience  is  absent.  Of  outward  things  these 
others  have  or  might  have  enough,  but  of  all  inward  things 


FINEST  PEASANTRY  IN  THE  WORLD.  20 

there  is  the  fatallest  lack.  Economy  does  not  exist  among 
them  ;  their  trade  now  in  plethoric  prosperity,  anon  extenu- 
ated into  inanition  and  '  short-time,'  is  of  the  nature  of  gamb- 
ling ;  they  live  by  it  like  gamblers,  now  in  luxurious  super- 
fluity, now  in  starvation.  Black  mutinous  discontent  devours 
them  ;  simply  the  miserablest  feeling  that  can  inhabit  the 
heart  of  man.  English  Commerce  with  its  world-wide  con- 
vulsive fluctuations,  with  its  immeasurable  Proteus  Steam- 
demon,  makes  all  paths  uncertain  for  them,  all  life  a  bewilder- 
ment :  sobriety,  steadfastness,  peaceable  continuance,  the  first 
blessings  of  man,  are  not  theirs. 

It  is  in  Glasgow  among  that  class  of  operatives  that  '  Num- 
ber 60,'  in  his  dark  room,  pays  down  the  price  of  blood.  Be 
it  with  reason  or  with  unreason,  too  surely  they  do  in  verity 
find  the  time  all  out  of  joint ;  this  world  for  them  no  home, 
but  a  dingy  prison-house  of  reckless  unthrift,  rebellion,  ran- 
cour, indignation  against  themselves  and  against  all  men.  Is 
it  a  green  flowery  world,  with  azure  everlasting  sky  stretched 
over  it,  the  work  and  government  of  a  God  ;  or  a  murky-sim- 
mering Tophet,  of  copperas-fumes,  cotton-fuz,  gin-riot,  wrath 
and  toil,  created  by  a  Demon,  governed  by  a  Demon  ?  The 
sum  of  their  wretchedness  merited  and  unmerited  welters, 
huge,  dark  and  baleful,  like  a  Dantean  Hell,  visible  there  in 
the  statistics  of  Gin  :  Gin  justly  named  the  most  authentic 
incarnation  of  the  Infernal  Principle  in  our  times,  too  indis- 
putable an  incarnation  ;  Gin  the  black  throat  into  which 
wretchedness  of  every  sort,  consummating  itself  by  calling 
on  delirium  to  help  it,  whirls  down  ;  abdication  of  the  power 
to  think  or  resolve,  as  too  painful  now,  on  the  part  of  men 
whose  lot  of  all  others  would  require  thought  and  resolution  ; 
liquid  Madness  sold  at  ten-pence  the  quartern,  all  the  products 
of  which  are  and  must  be,  like  its  origin,  mad,  miserable, 
ruinous,  and  that  only  !  If  from  this  black  unluminous  un- 
heeded Inferno,  and  Prisonhouse  of  souls  in  pain,  there  do 
flash  up  from  time  to  time,  some  dismal  wide-spread  glare  of 
Chartism  or  the  like,  notable  to  all,  claiming  remedy  from  all, 
— are  we  to  regard  it  as  more  baleful  than  the  quiet  state,  or 
rather  as  not  so  baleful  ?    Ireland  is  in  chronic  atrophy  these 


30 


CHARTISM. 


five  centuries ;  the  disease  of  nobler  England,  identified  now 
with  that  of  Ireland,  becomes  acute,  has  crises,  and  will  be 
cured  or  kill. 


CHAPTEK  V. 

RIGHTS  AND  MIGHTS. 

It  is  not  what  a  man  outwardly  has  or  wants  that  constitutes 
the  happiness  or  misery  of  him.  Nakedness,  hunger,  distress 
of  all  kinds,  death  itself  have  been  cheerfully  suffered,  when 
the  heart  was  right.  It  is  the  feeling  of  injustice  that  is  insup- 
portable to  all  men.  The  bru tallest  black  African  cannot  bear 
that  he  should  be  used  unjustly.  No  man  can  bear  it,  or  ought 
to  bear  it.  A  deeper  law  than  any  parchment-law  whatsoever, 
a  law  written  direct  by  the  hand  of  God  in  the  inmost  being 
of  man,  incessantly  protests  against  it.  What  is  injustice  ? 
Another  name  for  disorder,  for  unveracity,  unreality  ;  a  thing 
which  veracious  created  Nature,  even  because  it  is  not  Chaos 
and  a  waste-whirling  baseless  Phantasm,  rejects  and  disowns. 
It  is  not  the  outward  pain  of  injustice  ;  that,  were  it  even  the 
flaying  of  the  back  with  knotted  scourges,  the  severing  of 
the  head  with  guillotines,  is  comparatively  a  small  matter. 
The  real  smart  is  the  soul's  pain  and  stigma,  the  hurt  inflicted 
on  the  moral  self.  The  rudest  clown  must  draw  himself  up 
into  attitude  of  battle,  and  resistance  to  the  death,  if  such  be 
offered  him.  He  cannot  live  under  it ;  his  own  soul  aloud, 
and  all  the  universe  with  silent  continual  beckonings,  says,  It 
cannot  be.  He  must  revenge  himself  ;  remncher  himself,  make 
himself  good  again, — that  so  meum  may  be  mine,  tuum  thine, 
and  each  party  standing  clear  on  his  own  basis,  order  be  re- 
stored. There  is  something  infinitely  respectable  in  this,  and 
we  may  say  universally  respected  :  it  is  the  common  stamp  of 
manhood  vindicating  itself  in  all  of  us,  the  basis  of  whatever 
is  worthy  in  all  of  us,  and  through  superficial  diversities,  the 
same  in  all. 

As  disorder,  insane  by  the  nature  of  it,  is  the  hatefullest  of 
things  to  man,  who  lives  by  sanity  and  order,  so  injustice  is 
the  worst  evil,  some  call  it  the  only  evil,  in  this  world.  All 


RIGHTS  AND  MIGHTS. 


31 


men  submit  to  toil,  to  disappointment,  to  unhappiness  ;  it  is 
their  lot  here  ;  but  in  all  hearts,  inextinguishable  by  sceptic 
logic,  by  sorrow,  perversion  or  despair  itself,  there  is  a  small 
still  voice  intimating  that  it  is  not  the  final  lot  ;  that  wild, 
waste,  incoherent  as  it  looks,  a  God  presides  over  it ;  that  it 
is  not  an  injustice  but  a  justice.  Force  itself,  the  hopeless- 
ness of  resistance,  has  doubtless  a  composing  effect ; — against 
inanimate  Simooms,  and  much  other  infliction  of  the  like  sort, 
we  have  found  it  suffice  to  produce  complete  composure.  Yet, 
one  would  say,  a  permanent  Injustice  even  from  an  Infinite 
Power  would  prove  unendurable  by  men.  If  men  had  lost 
belief  in  a  God,  their  only  resource  against  a  blind  No-God, 
of  Necessity  and  Mechanism,  that  held  them  like  a  hideous 
World-Steamengine,  like  a  hideous  Phalaris'  Ball,  imprisoned 
in  its  own  iron  belly,  would  be,  with  or  without  hope, — revolt. 
They  could,  as  Novalis  says,  by  a  '  simultaneous  universal  act 
of  suicide,'  depart  out  of  the  World-Steamengine ;  and  end,  if 
not  in  victory,  yet  in  invincibility,  and  unsubduable  protest 
that  such  World-Steamengine  was  a  failure  and  a  stupidity. 

Conquest,  indeed,  is  a  fact  often  witnessed  ;  conquest,  which 
seems  mere  wrong  and  force,  everywhere  asserts  itself  as  a 
right  among  men.  Yet  if  we  examine,  we  shall  find  that,  in 
this  world,  no  conquest  could  ever  become  permanent,  which 
did  not  withal  shew  itself  beneficial  to  the  conquered  as 
well  as  to  conquerors.  Mithridates  King  of  Pontus,  come 
now  to  extremity,  '  appealed  to  the  patriotism  of  his  people  ; ' 
but,  says  the  history,  '  he  had  squeezed  them,  and  fleeced  and 
plundered  them,  for  long  years  his  requisitions,  flying  ir- 
regular, devastative,  like  the  whirlwind,  were  less  supportable 
than  Roman  strictness  and  method,  regular  though  never  so 
rigorous  ;  he  therefore  appealed  to  their  patriotism  in  vain. 
The  Romans  conquered  Mithridates.  The  Romans,  having 
conquered  the  world,  held  it  conquered,  because  they  could 
best  govern  the  world  ;  the  mass  of  men  found  it  nowise  press- 
ing to  revolt ;  their  fancy  might  be  afflicted  more  or  less,  but 
in  their  solid  interests  they  were  better  off  than  before.  So 
too  in  this  England  long  ago,  the  old  Saxon  Nobles,  disunited 
among  themselves,  and  in  power  too  nearly  equal,  could  not 


CHARTISM. 


have  governed  the  country  well ;  Harold  being  slain,  their  last 
chance  of  governing  it,  except  in  anarchy  and  civil  war,  was 
over  ;  a  new  class  of  strong  Norman  Nobles,  entering  with  a 
strong  man,  with  a  succession  of  strong  men  at  the  head  of 
them,  and  not  disunited,  but  united  by  many  ties,  by  their 
very  community  of  language  and  interest,  had  there  been  no 
other,  wwe  in  a  condition  to  govern  it ;  and  did  govern  it,  we 
can  believe,  in  some  rather  tolerable  manner,  or  they  would 
not  have  continued  there.  They  acted,  little  conscious  of  such 
function  on  their  part,  as  an  immense  volunteer  Police  Force, 
stationed  everywhere,  united,  disciplined,  feudally  regimented, 
ready  for  action  ;  strong  Teutonic  men  ;  who  on  the  whole 
proved  effective  men,  and  drilled  this  wild  Teutonic  people  into 
unity  and  peaceable  co-operation  better  than  others  could  have 
done  !  How  can-do,  if  we  will  well  interpret  it,  unites  itself 
with  shall-do  among  mortals  ;  how  strength  acts  ever  as  the 
right-arm  of  justice  ;  how  might  and  right,  so  frightfully  dis- 
crepant at  first,  are  ever  in  the  long-run  one  and  the  same, — 
is  a  cheering  consideration,  which  always  in  the  black  tem- 
pestuous vortices  of  this  world's  history,  will  shine  out  on  us, 
like  an  everlasting  polar  star. 

Of  conquest  we  may  say  that  it  never  yet  went  by  brute  . 
force  and  compulsion  ;  conquest  of  that  kind  does  not  endure. 
Conquest,  along  with  power  of  compulsion,  an  essential  uni- 
versally in  human  society,  must  bring  benefit  along  with  it, 
or  men,  of  the  ordinary  strength  of  men,  will  fling  it  out. 
The  strong  man,  what  is  he  if  we  will  consider  ?  The  wise 
man  ;  the  man  with  the  gift  of  method,  of  faithfulness  and 
valour,  all  of  which  are  of  the  basis  of  wisdom  ;  who  has  in- 
sight into  what  is  what,  into  what  will  follow  out  of  what,  the 
eye  to  see  and  the  hand  to  do  ;  who  is  Jit  to  administer,  to  di- 
rect, and  guidingly  command  :  he  is  the  strong  man.  His 
muscles  and  bones  are  no  stronger  than  ours  ;  but  his  soul  is 
stronger,  his  soul  is  wiser,  clearer, — is  better  and  nobler,  for  that 
is,  has  been,  and  ever  will  be  the  root  of  all  clearness  worthy  of 
such  a  name.  Beautiful  it  is,  and  a  gleam  from  the  same 
eternal  pole-star  visible  amid  the  destinies  of  men,  that  all 
talent,  all  intellect  is  in  the  first  place  moral ; — what  a  world 


RIGHTS  AND  MIGHTS. 


33 


were  this  otherwise  !  But  it  is  the  heart  always  that  sees,  be- 
fore the  head  can  see  :  let  us  know  that  ;  and  know  therefore 
that  the  Good  alone  is  deathless  and  victorious,  that  Hope  is 
sure  and  steadfast,  in  all  phases  of  this  'Place  of  Hope.' — 
Shiftiness,  quirk,  attorney- cunning  is  a  kind  of  thing  that  fan- 
cies itself,  and  is  often  fancied,  to  be  talent  ;  but  it  is  luckily 
mistaken  in  that.  Succeed  truly  it  does,  what  is  called  succeed- 
ing ;  and  even  must  in  general  succeed,  if  the  dispensers  of 
success  be  of  due  stupidity  :  men  of  due  stupidity  will  needs 
say  to  it,  "  Thou  art  wisdom,  rule  thou  !  " — Whereupon  it 
rules.  But  Nature  answers,  "No,  this  ruling  of  thine  is  not 
according  to  my  laws  ;  thy  wisdom  was  not  wise  enough  ! 
Dost  thou  take  me  too  for  a  Quackery  ?  For  a  Convention- 
ality and  Attorneyism  ?  This  chaff  that  thou  sowest  into  my 
bosom,  though  it  pass  at  the  poll-booth  and  elsewhere  for 
seed-corn,  /  will  not  grow  wheat  out  of  it,  for  it  is  chaff !  " 

But  to  return.  Injustice,  infidelity  to  truth  and  fact  and 
Nature's  order,  being  properly  the  one  evil  under  the  sun,  and 
the  feeling  of  injustice  the  one  intolerable  pain  under  the  sun, 
our  grand  question  as  to  the  condition  of  these  working  men 
would  be  :  Is  it  just  ?  And  first  of  all,  What  belief  have  they 
themselves  formed  about  the  justice  of  it  ?  The  words  they 
promulgate  are  notable  by  way  of  answer  ;  their  actions  are 
still  more  notable.  Chartism  with  its  pikes,  Swing  with  his 
tinder-box,  speak  a  most  loud  though  inarticulate  language. 
Glasgow  Thuggery  speaks  aloud  too,  in  a  language  we  may 
well  call  infernal.  What  kind  of  '  wild-justice  '  must  it  be  in 
the  hearts  of  these  men  that  prompts  them,  with  cold  delib- 
eration, in  conclave  assembled,  to  doom  their  brother  work- 
man, as  the  deserter  of  his  order  and  his  order's  cause,  to  die 
as  a  traitor  and  deserter  ;  and  have  him  executed,  since  not 
by  any  public  judge  and  hangman,  then  by  a  private  one  ; — 
like  your  old  Chivalry  Femgericht,  and  Secret-Tribunal,  sud- 
denly in  this  strange  guise  become  new  ;  suddenly  rising 
once  more  on  the  astonished  eye,  dressed  now  not  in  mail- 
shirts  but  in  fustian  jackets,  meeting  not  in  Westphalian  for- 
ests but  in  the  paved  Gallowgate  of  Glasgow  !  Not  loyal  lov- 
ing obedience  to  those  placed  over  them,  but  a  far  other 
3 


34 


CHARTISM. 


temper,  must  animate  these  men  !  It  is  frightful  enough. 
Such  temper  must  be  wide-spread,  virulent  among  the  many, 
when  even  in  its  worst  acme,  it  can  take  such  a  form  in  a  few. 
But  indeed  decay  of  loyalty  in  all  senses,  disobedience,  decay 
of  religious  faith,  has  long  been  noticeable  and  lamentable  in 
this  largest  class,  as  in  other  smaller  ones.  Revolt,  sullen  re- 
vengeful humour  of  revolt  against  the  upper  classes,  decreasing 
respect  for  what  their  temporal  superiors  command,  decreasing 
faith  for  what  their  spiritual  superiors  teach,  is  more  and  more 
the  universal  spirit  of  the  lower  classes.  Such  spirit  may  be 
blamed,  may  be  vindicated  ;  but  all  men  must  recognize  it  as 
extant  there,  all  may  know  that  it  is  mournful,  that  unless 
altered  it  will  be  fatal.  Of  lower  classes  so  related  to  upper, 
happy  nations  are  not  made !  To  whatever  other  griefs  the 
lower  classes  labour  under,  this  bitterest  and  sorest  grief  now 
superadds  itself  ;  the  unendurable  conviction  that  they  are 
unfairly  dealt  with,  that  their  lot  in  this  world  is  not  founded 
on  right,  not  even  on  necessity  and  might,  is  neither  what  it 
should  be,  nor  what  it  shall  be. 

Or  why  do  we  ask  of  Chartism,  Glasgow  Trades-Unions,  and 
such  like  ?  Has  not  broad  Europe  heard  the  question  put, 
and  answered,  on  the  great  scale  ;  has  not  a  French  Revolution 
been  ?  Since  the  year  1789,  there  is  now  half-a-century  com- 
plete ;  and  a  French  Revolution  not  yet  complete  !  Whoso- 
ever will  look  at  that  enormous  Phenomenon  may  find  many 
meanings  in  it,  but  this  meaning  as  the  ground  of  all :  That  it 
was  a  revolt  of  the  oppressed  lower  classes  against  the  oppress- 
ing or  neglecting  upper  classes  :  not  a  French  revolt  only  ; 
no,  a  European  one  ;  full  of  stern  monition  to  all  countries  of 
Europe.  These  Chartisms,  Radicalisms,  Reform  Bill,  Tithe 
Bill,  and  infinite  other  discrepancy,  and  acrid  argument  and 
jargon  that  there  is  yet  to  be,  are  our  French  Revolution  :  God 
grant  that  we  with  our  better  methods,  may  be  able  to  trans- 
act it  by  argument  alone  ! 

The  French  Revolution,  now  that  we  have  sufficiently  ex- 
ecrated its  horrors  and  crimes,  is  found  to  have  had  withal  a 
great  meaning  in  it.  As  indeed,  what  great  thing  ever  hap- 
pened in  this  world,  a  world  understood  always  to  be  made 


RIGHTS  AND  MIGHTS. 


35 


and  governed  by  a  Providence  and  Wisdom,  not  by  an  Un- 
wisdom, without  meaning  somewhat  ?  It  was  a  tolerably 
audible  voice  of  proclamation,  and  universal  oyez  !  to  all  peo- 
ple, this  of  three-and-twenty  years'  close  fighting,  sieging, 
conflagrating,  with  a  million  or  two  of  men  shot  dead  :  the 
world  ought  to  know  by  this  time  that  it  was  verily  meant  in 
earnest,  that  same  Phenomenon,  and  had  its  own  reasons  for 
appearing  there  !  Which  accordingly  the  world  begins  now 
to  do.  The  French  Revolution  is  seen,  or  begins  everywhere 
to  be  seen,  '  as  the  crowning  phenomenon  of  our  Modern 
'  Time  ;  the  inevitable  stern  end  of  much  ;  the  fearful,  but  also 
'  wonderful,  indispensable  and  sternly  beneficent  beginning  of 
'  much.'  He  who  would  understand  the  struggling  convulsive 
unrest  of  European  society,  in  any  and  every  country,  at  this 
day,  may  read  it  in  broad  glaring  lines  there,  in  that  the  most 
convulsive  phenomenon  of  the  last  thousand  years.  Europe 
lay  pining,  obstructed,  moribund  ;  quack-ridden,  hag-ridden, 
— is  there  a  hag,  or  spectre  of  the  Pit,  so  baleful,  hideous  as 
your  accredited  quack,  were  he  never  so  close-shaven,  mild- 
spoken,  plausible  to  himself  and  others  ?  Quack-ridden :  in 
that  one  word  lies  all  misery  whatsoever.  Speciosity  in  all 
departments  usurps  the  place  of  reality,  thrusts  reality  away  ; 
instead  of  performance,  there  is  appearance  of  performance. 
The  quack  is  a  Falsehood  Incarnate  ;  and  speaks,  and  makes 
and  does  mere  falsehoods,  which  Nature  with  her  veracity  has 
to  disown.  As  chief  priest,  as  chief  governor,  he  stands  there, 
intrusted  with  much.  The  husbandman  of  '  Time's  Seedfield  ; ' 
he  is  the  world's  hired  sower,  hired  and  solemnly  appointed 
to  sow  the  kind  true  earth  with  wheat  this  year,  that  next 
year  all  men  may  have  bread.  He,  miserable  mortal,  deceiv- 
ing and  self -deceiving,  sows  it,  as  we  said,  not  with  corn  but 
with  chaff ;  the  world  nothing  doubting,  harrows  it  in,  pays 
him  his  wages,  dismisses  him  with  blessing,  and — next  year 
there  has  no  corn  sprung.  Nature  has  disowned  the  chaff, 
has  declined  growing  chaff,  and  behold  now  there  is  no  bread  ! 
It  becomes  necessar}7,  in  such  case,  to  do  several  things ;  not 
soft  things  some  of  them,  but  hard. 

Nay  we  will  add  that  the  very  circumstance  of  quacks  in 


36 


CHARTISM. 


unusual  quantity  getting  domination,  indicates  that  the  heart 
of  the  world  is  already  wrong.  The  impostor  is  false  ;  but 
neither  are  his  dupes  altogether  true  :  is  not  his  first  grand 
dupe  the  falsest  of  all, — himself  namely?  Sincere  men,  of 
never  so  limited  intellect,  have  an  instinct  for  discriminating 
sincerity.  The  cunningest  Mephistopheles  cannot  deceive  a 
simple  Margaret  of  honest  heart ;  '  it  stands  written  on  his 
brow.'  Masses  of  people  capable  of  being  led  away  by  quacks 
are  themselves  of  partially  untrue  spirit.  Alas,  in  such  times 
it  grows  to  be  the  universal  belief,  sole  accredited  knowing- 
ness,  and  the  contrary  of  it  accounted  puerile  enthusiasm,  this 
sorrowfullest  J/Vbelief  that  there  is  properly  speaking  any 
truth  in  the  world  ;  that  the  world  was,  has  been,  or  ever  can 
be  guided,  except  by  simulation,  dissimulation,  and  the  suf- 
ficiently dexterous  practice  of  pretence.  The  faith  of  men  is 
dead :  in  what  has  guineas  in  its  pocket,  beefeaters  riding  be- 
hind it,  and  cannons  trundling  before  it,  they  can  believe  ;  in 
what  has  none  of  these  things  they  cannot  believe.  Sense  for 
the  true  and  false  is  last ;  there  is  properly  no  longer  any  true 
or  false.  It  is  the  heyday  of  Imposture  ;  of  Semblance  recog- 
nising itself,  and  getting  itself  recognised,  for  Substance. 
Gaping  multitudes  listen  ;  unlistening  multitudes  see  not  but 
that  it  is  all  right,  and  in  the  order  of  Nature.  Earnest  men, 
one  of  a  million,  shut  their  lips  ;  suppressing  thoughts,  which 
there  are  no  words  to  utter.  To  them  it  is  too  visible  that 
spiritual  life  has  departed  ;  that  material  life,  in  whatsoever 
figure  of  it,  cannot  long  remain  behind.  To  them  it  seems  as 
if  our  Europe  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  long  hag-ridden, 
vexed  with  foul  enchanters,  to  the  length  now  of  gorgeous 
Domdaniel  Farcs-aux-cerfs  and  '  Peasants  living  on  meal-husks 
and  boiled  grass,'  had  verily  sunk  down  to  die  and  dissolve  ; 
and  were  now,  with  its  French  Philosophisms,  Hume  Scepti- 
cisms, Diderot  Atheisms,  maundering  in  the  final  deliration  ; 
writhing,  with  its  Seven-years  Silesian  robber-wars,  in  the 
final  agony.  Glor}r  to  God,  our  Europe  was  not  to  die  but  to 
live  !  Our  Europe  rose  like  a  frenzied  giant  ;  shook  all  that 
poisonous  magician  trumpery  to  right  and  left,  trampling  it 
stormfully  under  foot ;  and  declared  aloud  that  there  was 


RIGHTS  AND  MIGHTS. 


37 


strength  in  him,  not  for  life  only,  but  for  new  and  infinitely 
wider  life.  Antseus-like  the  giant  had  struck  his  foot  once 
more  upon  Reality  and  the  Earth  ;  there  only,  if  in  this  uni- 
verse at  all,  lay  strength  and  healing  for  him.  Heaven  knows, 
it  was  not  a  gentle  process  ;  no  wonder  that  it  was  a  fearful 
process,  this  same  '  Phoenix  fire-consummation  ! '  But  the 
alternative  was  this  or  death  ;  the  merciful  Heavens,  merciful 
in  their  severity,  sent  us  this  rather. 

And  so  the  '  rights  of  man '  were  to  be  written  down  on 
paper  ;  and  experimentally  wrought  upon  towards  elaboration, 
in  huge  battle  and  wrestle,  element  conflicting  with  element, 
from  side  to  side  of  this  Earth,  for  three-and-twenty  years. 
Rights  of  man,  wrongs  of  man  ?  It  is  a  question  which  has 
swallowed  whole  nations  and  generations ;  a  question — on 
which  we  will  not  enter  here.  Far  be  it  from  us  !  Logic  has 
small  business  with  this  question  at  present ;  logic  has  no 
plummet  that  will  sound-  it  at  any  time.  But  indeed  the 
rights  of  man,  as  has  been  not  unaptly  remarked,  are  little 
worth  ascertaining  in  comparison  to  the  migJits  of  man, — to 
what  portion  of  his  rights  he  has  any  chance  of  being  able  to 
make  good !  The  accurate  final  rights  of  man  lie  in  the  far 
deeps  of  the  Ideal,  where  £  the  Ideal  weds  itself  to  the  Possi- 
ble,' as  the  Philosophers  say.  The  ascertainable  temporary 
rights  of  man  vary  not  a  little,  according  to  place  and  time. 
They  are  known  to  depend  much  on  what  a  man's  convictions 
of  them  are.  The  Highland  wife,  with  her  husband  at  the 
foot  of  the  gallows,  patted  him  on  the  shoulder  (if  there  be 
historical  truth  in  Joseph  Miller),  and  said  amid  her  tears : 
"Go  up,  Donald,  my  man;  the  Laird  bids  ye."  To  her  it 
seemed  the  rights  of  lairds  were  great,  the  rights  of  men 
small ;  and  she  acquiesced.  Deputy  Laponle,  in  the  Salle  de& 
jllenus  at  Versailles,  on  the  4th  of  August,  1789,  demanded 
(he  did  actually  '  demand,'  and  by  unanimous  vote  obtain) 
that  the  1  obsolete  law '  authorizing  a  Seigneur,  on  his  return 
from  the  chase  or  other  needful  fatigue,  to  slaughter  not 
above  two  of  his  vassals,  and  refresh  his  feet  in  their  warm 
blood  and  bowels,  should  be  1  abrogated.'  From  such  obso- 
lete law,  or  mad  tradition  and  phantasm  of  an  obsolete  law, 


38 


CHARTISM. 


down  to  any  corn-law,  game-law,  rotten- borough  law,  or  other 
law  or  practice  clamoured  of  in  this  time  of  ours,  the  distance 
travelled  over  is  great  ! — What  are  the  rights  of  men  ?  All 
men  are  justified  in  demanding  and  searching  for  their  rights  ; 
moreover,  justified  or  not,  they  will  do  it :  by  Chartisms, 
Radicalisms,  French  Revolutions,  or  whatsoever  methods  they 
have.  Rights  surely  are  right  :  on  the  other  hand,  this  other 
saying  is  most  true,  '  Use  every  man  according  to  his  riyhts, 
and  who  shall  escape  whipping  ! '  These  two  things,  we  sa}T, 
are  both  true  ;  and  both  are  essential  to  make  up  the  whole 
truth.  All  good  men  know  always  and  feel,  each  for  himself, 
that  the  one  is  not  less  true  than  the  other ;  and  act  accord- 
ingly. The  contradiction  is  of  the  surface  only  ;  as  in  oppo- 
site sides  of  the  same  fact :  universal  in  this  dualism  of  a  life 
we  have.  Between  these  two  extremes,  Society  and  all  human 
things  must  fiuctuatingly  adjust  themselves  the  best  they  can. 

And  yet  that  there  is  verily  a  '  rights  of  man '  let  no  mortal 
doubt.  An  ideal  of  right  does  dwell  in  all  men,  in  all  arrange- 
ments, pactions  and  procedures  of  men  ;  it  is  to  this  ideal  of 
right,  more  and  more  developing  itself  as  it  is  more  and  more 
approximated  to,  that  human  Society  for  ever  tends  and  strug- 
gles. '  We  say  also  that  any  given  thing  either  is  unjust  or 
else  just ;  however  obscure  the  arguings  and  stragglings  on  it 
be,  the  thing  in  itself  there  as  it  lies,  infallibly  enough,  is  the 
one  or  the  other.  ;  To  which  let  us  add  only  this,  the  first, 
last  article  of  faith,  the  alpha  and  omega  of  all  faith  among 
men,  That  nothing  which  is  unjust  can  hope  to  continue  in 
this  world.  A  faith  true  in  all  times,  more  or  less  forgotten 
in  most,  but  altogether  frightfully  brought  to  remembrance 
again  in  ours  !  Lyons  fusilladings,  Nantes  noyadings,  reigns 
of  terror,  and  such  other  universal  battle-thunder  and  explo- 
sion ;  these,  if  we  will  understand  them,  were  but  a  new  irre- 
fragable preaching  abroad  of  that.  It  would  appear  that 
Speciosities  which  are  not  Realities  cannot  any  longer  inhabit 
this  world.  It  would  appear  that  the  unjust  thing  has  no 
friend  in  the  Heaven,  and  a  majority  against  it  on  the  earth ; 
nay,  that  it  has  at  bottom  all  men  for  its  enemies  ;  that  it  may 
take  shelter  in  this  fallacy  and  then  in  that,  but  will  be  hunted 


LAISSEZ-FAIRE. 


39 


from  fallacy  to  fallacy,  till  it  find  no  fallacy  to  shelter  in  any 
more,  but  must  march  and  go  elsewhither  ; — that,  in  a  word, 
.  it  ought  to  prepare  incessantly  for  decent  departure,  before 
indecent  departure,  ignominious  drumming  out,  nay  savage 
smiting  out  and  burning  out,  overtake  it !  Alas,  was  that 
such  new  tidings  ?  Is  it  not  from  of  old  indubitable,  that 
Untruth,  Injustice  which  is  but  acted  untruth,  has  no  power 
to  continue  in  this  true  universe  of  ours  ?  The  tidings  was 
world-old,  or  older,  as  old  as  the  Fall  of  Lucifer  :  and  yet  in 
that  epoch  unhappily  it  was  new  tidings,  unexpected,  incredi- 
ble ;  and  there  had  to  be  such  earthquakes  and  shakings  of 
the  nations  before  it  could  be  listened  to,  and  laid  to  heart 
even  slightly  !  *  Let  us  lay  it  to  heart,  let  us  know  it  well  that 
new  shakings  be  not  needed.  ^Known  and  laid  to  heart  it 
mast  everywhere  be,  before  peace  can  pretend  to  come.  This 
seems  to  us  the  secret  of  our  convulsed  era  ;  this  which  is  so 
easily  written,  which  is  and  has  been  and  will  be  so  hard  to 
bring  to  pass.  *  All  true  men,  high  and  low,  each  in  his  sphere, 
are  consciously  or  -unconsciously  bringing  it  to  pass  ;  all  false 
and  half-true  men  are  fruitlessly  spending  themselves  to  hin- 
der it  from  coming  to  pass. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LAISSEZ-FAIRE. 

From  all  which  enormous  events,  with  truths  old  and 
new  embodied  in  them,  what  innumerable  practical  infer- 
ences are  to  be  drawn !  Events  are  written  lessons,  glaring 
in  huge  hieroglyphic  picture-writing,  that  all  may  read  and 
know  them :  the  terror  and  horror  they  inspire  is  but  the 
note  of  preparation  for  the  truth  they  are  to  teach  ;  a  mere 
waste  of  terror  if  that  be  not  learned.  Inferences  enough ; 
most  didactic,  practically  applicable  in  all  departments  of 
English  things !  One  inference,  but  one  inclusive  of  all,  shall 
content  us  here  ;  this  namely  :  That  Laissez-faire  has  as  good 
as  done  its  part  in  a  great  many  provinces  ;  that  in  the  prov- 
ince of  the  Working  Classes,  Laissez-faire  having  passed  its 


40 


CHARTISM. 


New  Poor-Law,  has  reached  the  suicidal  point  and  now,  as 

felo-de-se,  lies  dying  there,  in  torchlight  meetings  and  such 
like  ;  that,  in  brief,  a  government  of  the  under  classes  by  the 
upper  on  a  principle  of  Let  alone  is  no  longer  possible  in  Eng- 
land in  these  days.  This  is  the  one  inference  inclusive  of  all. 
For  there  can  be  no  acting  or  doing  of  any  kind,  till  it  be 
recognised  that  there  is  a  thing  to  be  done  ;  the  thing  once 
recognised,  doing  in  a  thousand  shapes  becomes  possible. 
-  The  Working  Classes  cannot  any  longer  go  on  without  govern- 
ment ;  without  being  actually  guided  and  governed  ;  England 
cannot  subsist  in  peace  till,  by  some  means  or  other,  some 
guidance  and  government  for  them  is  found. 

For,  alas,  on  us  too  the  rude  truth  has  come  home.  Wrap- 
pages and  speciosities  all  worn  off,  the  haggard  naked  fact 
speaks  to  us  :  Are  these  millions  taught  ?  Are  these  millions 
guided  ?  We  have  a  Church,  the  venerable  embodiment  of 
an  idea  which  may  well  call  itself  divine  ;  which  our  fathers 
for  long  ages,  feeling  it  to  be  divine,  have  been  embodying  as 
we  see  :  it  is  a  Church  well  furnished  with  equipments  and 
appurtenances  ;  educated  in  universities  ;  rich  in  money  ;  set 
on  high  places  that  it  may  be  conspicuous  to  all,  honoured  of 
all.  We  have  an  Aristocracy  of  landed  wealth  and  commer- 
cial wealth,  in  whose  hands  lies  the  law-making  and  the  law- 
administering  ;  an  Aristocracy  rich,  powerful,  long  secure  in 
its  place ;  an  Aristocracy  with  more  faculty  put  free  into  its 
hands  than  was  ever  before,  in  any  country  or  time,  put  into 
the  hands  of  any  class  of  men.  This  Church  answers  :  Yes,  the 
people  are  taught.  This  Aristocracy,  astonishment  in  every 
feature,  answers  :  Yes,  surely  the  people  are  guided !  Do 
J  we  not  pass  what  Acts  of  Parliament  are  needful ;  as  many  as 
J'  thirty-nine  for  the  shooting  of  the  partridges  alone  ?  Are  there 
not  tread-mills,  gibbets  ;  even  hospitals,  poor-rates,  New  Poor- 
Law?  So  answers  Church ;  so  answers  Aristocracy,  astonish- 
ment in  every  feature. — Fact,  in  the  meanwhile,  takes  his  luci- 
fer-box,  sets  fire  to  wheat-stacks  ;  sheds  an  nll-too  dismal  light 
on  several  things.  Fact  searches  for  his  third-rate  potatoe, 
not  in  the  meekest  humour,  six-and-tbirty  weeks  each  year ; 
and  docs  not  find  it.    Fact  passionately  joins  Messiah  Thorn 


LAISSI^Z-FAIUE. 


41 


of  Canterbury,  and  Las  himself  shot  for  a  new  fifth-monarchy 
brought  in  by  Bedlam.  Fact  holds  his  fustian -jacket  Fem- 
gericht  in  Glasgow  City.  Fact  carts  his  Petition  over  London 
streets,  begging  that  you  would  simply  have  the  goodness  to 
grant  him  universal  suffrage,  and  '  the  five  points,'  by  way  of 
remedy.    These  are  not  symptoms  of  teaching  and  guiding. 

Nay,  at  bottom,  is  it  not  a  singular  thing  this  of  Laissez- 
faire,  from  the  first  origin  of  it  ?  As  good  as  an  abdication  on 
the  part  of  governors  ;  an  admission  that  they  are  henceforth 
incompetent  to  govern,  that  they  are  not  there  to  govern  at 
all,  but  to  do — one  knows  not  what !  ■  The  universal  demand 
of  Laissez-faire  by  a  people  from  its  governors  or  upper 
classes,  is  a  soft -sounding  demand  ;  but  it  is  only  one  step 
removed  from  the  fatallest.  '  Laissez-faire,'  exclaims  a  sar- 
donic German  writer,  '  What  is  this  universal  cry  for  Laissez- 
'faire  f  Does  it  mean  that  human  affairs  require  no  guid- 
'ance  ;  that  wisdom  and  forethought  cannot  guide  them  bet- 
'  ter  than  folly  and  accident  ?  Alas,  does  it  not  mean  :  "  Such 
'guidance  is  worse  than  none  !  Leave  us  alone  of  your  guid- 
'  ance  ;  eat  your  wages,  and  sleep  !  " '  And  now  if  guidance 
have  grown  indispensable,  and  the  sleep  continue,  what  be- 
comes of  the  sleep  and  its  wages  ? — In  those  entirely  surpris- 
ing circumstances  to  which  the  Eighteenth  Century  had 
brought  us,  in  the  time  of  Adam  Smith,  Laissez-faire  was  a 
reasonable  cry  ;— as  indeed,  in  all  circumstances,  for  a  wise 
governor  there  will  be  meaning  in  the  principle  of  it.  To 
wise  governors  you  will  cry  :  "  See  what  you  will,  and  will 
not,  let  alone."  To  unwise  governors,  to  hungry  Greeks 
throttling  down  hungry  Greeks  on  the  floor  of  a  St.  Stephens, 
you  will  cry  :  "  Let  all  things  alone  ;  for  Heaven's  sake,  med- 
dle ye  with  nothing!"  How  Laissez-faire  may  adjust  itself 
in  other  provinces  we  say  not :  but  we  do  venture  to  say,  and 
ask  whether  events  everywhere  in  world-history  and  parish- 
history,  in  all  manner  of  dialects  are  not  saying  it,  That  in 
regard  to  the  lower  orders  of  society,  and  their  governance  and 
guidance,  the  principle  of  Laissez-faire  has  terminated,  and  is 
no  longer  applicable  at  all,  in  this  Europe  of  ours,  still  less 
in  this  England  of  ours.    Not  misgovernment,  nor  yet  no- 


42 


CHARTISM. 


government  :  only  government  will  now  serve.  What  is  the 
meaning  of  the  'five  points,' if  we  will  understand  them? 
What  are  all  popular  commotions  and  maddest  bellowings, 
from  Peterloo  to  the  Place-de-Greve  itself  ?  Bellowings,  in- 
articulate  cries  as  of  a  dumb  creature  in  rage  and  pain  ;  to 
the  ear  of  wisdom  they  are  inarticulate  prayers  :  "  Guide  me, 
govern  me !  I  am  mad,  and  miserable,  and  cannot  guide  my- 
self !  "  Surely  of  all  '  rights  of  man,'  this  right  of  the  igno- 
rant man  to  be  guided  by  the  wiser,  to  be,  gently  or  forcibly, 
held  in  the  true  course  by  him,  is  the  indisputablest.  Nature 
herself  ordains  it  from  the  first ;  Society  struggles  towards 
perfection  by  enforcing  and  accomplishing  it  more  and  more. 
If  Freedom  have  any  meaning,  it  means  enjoyment  of  this 
right,  wherein  all  other  rights  are  enjoyed.  It  is  a  sacred 
right  and  duty,  on  both  sides  ;  and  the  summary  of  all  social 
duties  whatsoever  between  the  two.  Why  does  the  one  toil 
with  his  hands,  if  the  other  be  not  to  toil,  still  more  un- 
weariedly,  with  heart  and  head  ?  The  brawny  craftsman  finds 
it  no  child's  play  to  mould  his  unpliant  rugged  masses ; 
neither  is  guidance  of  men  a  dilettantism  :  what  it  becomes 
when  treated  as  a  delettantism,  we  may  see  !  The  wild  horse 
bounds  homeless  through  the  wilderness,  is  not  led  to  stall 
and  manger :  but  neither  does  he  toil  for  you,  but  for  himself 
only. 

Democracy,  we  are  well  aware,  what  is  called  '  self-govern- 
ment '  of  the  multitude  by  the  multitude,  is  in  words  the  thing 
everywhere  passionately  clamoured  for  at  present.  Democ- 
racy makes  rapid  progress  in  these  latter  times,  and  ever  more 
rapid,  in  a  perilous  accelerative  ratio  ;  towards  democracy, 
and  that  only,  the  progress  of  things  is  everywhere  tending 
as  to  the  final  goal  and  winning-post.  So  think,  so  clamour 
the  multitudes  everywhere.  And  yet  all  men  may  see,  whose 
sight  is  good  for  much,  that  in  democracy  can  lie  no  finality  ; 
that  with  the  completest  winning  of  democracy  there  is  noth- 
ing yet  won, — except  emptiness,  and  the  free  chance  to  win  ! 
Democracy  is,  by  the  nature  of  it,  a  self-cancelling  business  : 
and  gives  in  the  long-run  a  net-result  of  zero.  Where  no 
government  is  wanted,  save  that  of  the  parish-constable,  as  in 


LAISSEZ-FAIRE. 


43 


America  with  its  boundless  soil,  every  man  being  able  to  find 
work  and  recompense  for  himself,  democracy  may  subsist ; 
not  elsewhere,  except  briefly,  as  a  swift  transition  towards 
something  other  and  farther.  Democracy  never  yet,  that  we 
heard  of,  was  able  to  accomplish  much  work,  beyond  that 
same  cancelling  of  itself.  Eome  and  Athens  are  themes  for 
the  schools  ;  unexceptionable' for  that  purpose.  In  Eome  and 
Athens,  as  elsewhere,  if  we  look  practically,  we  shall  find  that 
it  was  not  by  loud  voting  and  debating  of  many,  but  by  wise 
insight  and  ordering  of  a  few  that  the  work  was  done.  So  is 
it  ever,  so  will  it  ever  be.  The  French  Convention  was  a 
Parliament  elected  'by  the  five  points,'  with  ballot-boxes,  uni- 
versal suffrages,  and  what  not,  as  perfectly  as  Parliament  can 
hope  to  be  in  this  world  ;  and  had  indeed  a  pretty  spell  of 
work  to  do,  and  did  it.  The  French  Convention  had  to  cease 
from  being  a  free  Parliament,  and  become  more  arbitrary  than 
any  Sultan  Bajazet,  before  it  could  so  much  as  subsist.  It 
had  to  purge  out  its  argumentative  Girondins,  elect  its  Su- 
preme Committee  of  Salut,  guillotine  into  silence  and  extinc- 
tion all  that  gainsayed  it,  and  rule  and  work  literally  by  the 
sternest  despotism  ever  seen  in  Europe,  before  it  could  rule 
at  all.  Napoleon  was  not  president  of  a  republic  ;  Cromwell 
tried  hard  to  rule  in  that  way,  but  found  that  he  could  not. 
These,  'the  armed  soldiers  of  democracy,'  had  to  chain  democ- 
racy under  their  feet,  and  become  despots  over  it,  before  they 
could  work  out  the  earnest  obscure  purpose  of  democracy  it- 
self !  Democracy,  take  it  where  you  will  in  our  Europe,  is 
found  but  as  a  regulated  method  of  rebellion  and  abrogation  ; 
it  abrogates  the  old  arrangement  of  things  ;  and  leaves,  as  we 
say,  zero  and  vacuity  for  the  institution  of  a  new  arrangement. 
It  is  the  consummation  of  No-government  and  Laissez-faire. 
It  may  be  natural  for  our  Europe  at  present ;  but  cannot  be 
the  ultimatum  of  it.  »Not  towards  the  impossibility,  'self- 
government  '  of  a  multitude  by  a  multitude  ;  but  towards  some 
possibility,  government  by  the  wisest,  does  bewildered  Europe 
struggle.  The  blessedest  possibility :  not  misgovernment, 
not  Laissez-faire,  but  veritable  government !  Cannot  one  dis- 
cern too,  across  all  democratic  turbulence,  clattering  of  ballot- 


44 


CHARTISM. 


boxes  and  infinite  sorrowful  jangle,  needful  or  not,  that  this 
at  bottom  is  the  wish  and  prayer  of  all  human  hearts,  every- 
where and  at  all  times  :  "  Give  me  a  leader  ;  a  true  leader,  not 
a  false  sham-leader ;  a  true  leader,  that  he  may  guide  me  on 
the  true  way,  that  I  may  be  loyal  to  him,  that  I  may  swear 
fealty  to  him  and  follow  him,  and  feel  that  it  is  well  with  me  !  " 
The  relation  of  the  taught  to  their  teacher,  of  the  loyal  sub- 
ject to  his  guiding  king,  is,  under  one  shape  or  another,  the 
vital  element  of  human  Society  ;  indispensable  to  it,  perennial 
in  it ;  without  which,  as  a  body  reft  of  its  soul,  it  falls  down 
into  death,  and  with  horrid  noisome  dissolution  passes  away 
and  disappears. 

But  verily  in  these  times,  with  their  new  stern  Evangel,  that 
Speciosities  which  are  not  Realities  can  no  longer  be,  all  Aris- 
tocracies, Priesthoods,  Persons  in  Authority,  are  called  upon 
to  consider.  What  is  an  Aristocracy  ?  A  corporation  of  the 
Best,  of  the  Bravest.  To  this  joyfully,  with  heart- loyalty,  do 
men  pay  the  half  of  their  substance,  to  equip  and  decorate 
their  Best,  to  lodge  them  in  palaces,  to  set  them  high  over  all. 
For  it  is  of  the  nature  of  men,  in  every  time,  to  honour  and 
love  their  Best ;  to  know  no  limits  in  honouring  them.  What- 
soever Aristocracy  is  still  a  corporation  of  the  Best,  is  safe  from 
all  peril,  and  the  land  it  rules  is  a  safe  and  blessed  land.  What- 
soever Aristocracy  does  not  even  attempt  to  be  that,  but  only 
to  wear  the  clothes  of  that,  is  not  safe  ;  neither  is  the  land  it 
rules  in  safe !  •  For  this  now  is  our  sad  lot,  that  we  must  find 
a  real  Aristocracy,  that  an  apparent  Aristocracy,  how  plausible 
soever,  has  become  inadequate  for  us.  One  way  or  other,  the 
world  will  absolutely  need  to  be  governed  ;  if  not  by  this  class 
of  men,  then  by  that.  One  can  predict,  without  gift  of  proph- 
ecy, that  the  era  of  routine  is  nearly  ended.  Wisdom  and  fac* 
ulty  alone,  faithful,  valiant,  ever-zealous,  not  pleasant  but  pain- 
ful, continual  effort,  will  suffice.  Cost  what  it  may,  by  one 
means  or  another,  the  toiling  multitudes  of  this  perplexed 
over-crowded  Europe,  must  and  will  find  governors.  '  Laissez- 
faire,  Leave  them  to  do?'  The  thing  they  will  do,  if  so  left, 
is  too  frightful  to  think  of  !    It  has  been  done  once,  in  sight 


LAISSEZ-FAIRE. 


45 


of  the  whole  earth,  in  these  generations  ;  can  it  need  to  be 
done  a  second  time  ? 

For  a  Priesthood,  in  like  manner,  whatsoever  its  titles,  pos- 
sessions, professions,  there  is  but  one  question  :  does  it  teach 
and  spiritually  guide  this  people,  yea  or  no  ?  If  yea,  then  is 
all  well.  But  if  no,  then  let  it  strive  earnestly  to  alter,  for  as 
yet  there  is  nothing  well !  Nothing,  we  say  :  and  indeed  is  not 
this  that  we  call  spiritual  guidance  properly  the  soul  of  the 
whole,  the  life  and  eyesight  of  the  whole  ?  The  world  asks  of 
its  Church  in  these  times,  more  passionately  than  of  any  other 
Institution  any  question,  "Canst  thou  teach  us  or  not?" — A 
Priesthood  in  France,  when  the  world  asked,  "What  canst 
thou  do  for  us  ?  "  answered  only,  aloud  and  ever  louder,  "  Are 
we  not  of  God  ?  Invested  with  all  power  ?  " — till  at  length 
France  cut  short  this  controversy  too,  in  what  frightful  way 
we  know.  To  all  men  who  believed  in  the  Church,  to  all  men 
who  believed  in  God  and  the  soul  of  man,  there  was  no  issue 
of  the  French  Revolution  half  so  sorrowful  as  that.  France 
cast  out  its  benighted  blind  Priesthood  into  destruction  ;  yet 
with  what  a  loss  to  France  also  !  A  solution  of  continuity, 
what  we  may  well  call  such  ;  and  this  where  continuity  is  so 
momentous  :  the  New,  whatever  it  may  be,  caimot  now  grow 
out  of  the  Old,  but  is  severed  sheer  asunder  from  the  Old, — 
how  much  lies  wasted  in  that  gap  !  That  one  whole  genera- 
tion of  thinkers  should  be  without  a  reliction  to  believe,  or 
even  to  contradict ;  that  Christianity,  in  thinking  France, 
should  as  it  were  fade  away  so  long  into  a  remote  extraneous 
tradition,  was  one  of  the  saddest  facts  connected  with  the 
future  of  that  country.  Look  at  such  Political  and  Moral 
Philosophies,  St.-Simonisms,  Robert-Macairisms,  and  the  'Lit- 
erature of  Desperation ' !  Kingship  was  perhaps  but  a  cheap 
waste,  compared  with  this  of  the  Priestship  ;  under  which 
France  still,  all  but  unconsciously,  labours  ;  and  may  long  la- 
bour, remediless  the  while.  Let  others  consider  it,  and  take 
warning  by  it !  France  is  a  pregnant  example  in  all  ways. 
Aristocracies  that  do  not  govern,  Priesthoods  that  do  not 
teach  ;  the  misery  of  that,  and  the  misery  of  altering  that, — 
are  written  in  Belshazzar  fire-letters  on  the  history  of  France. 


46 


CHARTISM. 


Or  does  the  British  reader,  safe  in  the  assurance  that 1  Eng- 
land is  not  France,'  call  all  this  unpleasant  doctrine  of  ours 
ideology,  perfectability,  and  a  vacant  dream  ?  Does  the  Brit- 
ish reader,  resting  on  the  faith  that  what  has  been  these  two 
generations  was  from  the  beginning,  and  will  be  to  the  end, 
assert  to  himself  that  things  are  already  as  they  can  be,  as 
they  must  be  ;  that  on  the  whole,  no  Upper  Classes  did  ever 
'  govern  '  the  Lower,  in  this  sense  of  governing  ?  Believe  it 
not,  O  British  reader !  Man  is  man  everywhere  ;  dislikes  to 
have  '  sensible  species  '  and  '  ghosts  of  defunct  bodies '  foisted 
on  him,  in  England  even  as  in  France.  How  much  the  Upper 
Classes  did  actually,  in  any  of  the  most  perfect  Feudal  time, 
return  to  the  Under  by  way  of  recompense,  in  government, 
guidance,  protection,  we  will  not  undertake  to  specify  here. 
In  Charity-Balls,  Soup-Kitchen  s,  in  Quarter-Sessions,  Prison- 
Discipline  and  Treadmills,  we  can  well  believe  the  old  Feudal 
Aristocracy  not  to  have  surpassed  the  new.  Yet  we  do  say 
that  the  old  Aristocracy  were  the  governors  of  the  Lower 
Classes,  the  guides  of  the  Lower  Classes  ;  and  even,  at  bottom, 
that  they  existed  as  an  Aristocracy  because  they  were  found 
adequate  for  that.  Not  by  Charity-Balls  and  Soup-Kitchens  ; 
not  so  ;  far  otherwise  !  But  it  was  their  happiness  that,  in 
struggling  for  their  own  objects,  they  had  to  govern  the  Lower 
Classes,  even  in  this  sense  of  governing.  For,  in  one  word, 
Gash  Payment  had  not  then  grown  to  be  the  universal  sole 
nexus  of  man  to  man  ;  it  was  something  other  than  money 
that  the  high  then  expected  from  the  low,  and  could  not  live 
without  getting  from  the  low.  Not  as  buyer  and  seller  alone, 
of  land  or  what  else  it  might  be,  but  in  many  senses  still  as 
soldier  and  captain,  as  clansman  and  head,  as  loyal  subject 
and  guiding  king,  was  the  low  related  to  the  high.  With  the 
supreme  triumph  of  Cash,  a  changed  time  has  entered  ;  there 
must  a  changed  Aristocracy  enter.  We  invite  the  British 
reader  to  meditate  earnestly  on  these  things. 

Another  thing,  which  the  British  reader  often  reads  and 
hears  in  this  time,  is  worth  his  meditating  for  a  moment : 
That  Society  '  exists  for  the  protection  of  property.'  To  which 
it  is  added,  that  the  poor  man  also  has  property,  namely,  his 


LAISSEZ-FAIRE. 


47 


'labour,'  and  the  fifteen-pence  or  three -and-sixpence  a-day 
he  can  get  for  that.  True  enough,  O  friends,  '  for  protecting 
property  ; '  most  true  :  and  indeed  if  you  will  once  sufficiently 
enforce  that  Eighth  Commandment,  the  whole  '  rights  of  man ' 
are  well  cared  for  :  I  know  no  better  definition  of  the  rights 
of  man.  Thou  shalt  not  steal,  thou  shalt  not  be  stolen  from  : 
what  a  Society  were  that  ;  Plato's  Kepublic,  Moore's  Utopia 
mere  emblems  of  it !  Give  every  man  what  is  his,  the  accu- 
ate  price  of  what  he  has  done  and  been,  no  man  shall  any 
more  complain,  neither  shall  the  earth  suffer  any  more.  For 
the  protection  of  property,  in  very  truth,  and  for  that  alone  ! 
— And  now  what  is  thy  property  ?  That  parchment  title-deed, 
that  purse  thou  buttonest  in  thy  breeches-pocket?  Is  that 
thy  valuable  property  ?  Unhappy  brother,  most  poor  insol- 
vent brother,  I  without  parchment  at  all,  with  purse  oftenest 
in  the  flaccid  state,  imponderous,  which  will  not  fling  against 
the  wind,  have  quite  other  property  than  that !  I  have  the 
miraculous  breath  of  Life  in  me,  breathed  into  my  nostrils 
by  Almighty  God.  I  have  affections,  thoughts,  a  god-given 
capability  to  be  and  do ;  rights,  therefore, — the  right  for  in- 
stance to  thy  love  if  I  love  thee,  to  thy  guidance  if  I  obey  thee  : 
the  strangest  rights,  whereof  in  church-pulpits  one  still  hears 
something,  though  almost  unintelligible  now  ;  rights,  stretch- 
ing high  into  Immensity,  far  into  Eternity !  Fifteen-pence 
a-day  ;  three-and-sixpence  a-day  ;  eight  hundred  pounds  and 
odd  a-day,  dost  thou  call  that  my  property  ?  I  value  that  but 
little ;  little  all  I  could  purchase  with  that.  For  truly,  as  is 
said,  what  matters  it  ?  In  torn  boots,  in  soft-hung  carriages- 
and-four,  a  man  gets  always  to  his  journey's  end.  Socrates 
walked  barefoot,  or  in  wooden  shoes,  and  yet  arrived  happily. 
They  never  asked  him,  What  shoes  or  conveyance?  never, 
What  wages  hadst  thou?  but  simply,  What  work  didst  thou  ? 
Property,  O  brother  ?  '  Of  my  very  body  I  have  but  a  life- 
rent.' As  for  this  flaccid  purse  of  mine,  'tis  something,  noth- 
ing ;  has  been  the  slave  of  pickpockets,  cutthroats,  Jew-brok- 
ers, gold-dust  robbers  ;  'twas  his,  'tis  mine  ; — 'tis  thine,  if 
thou  care  much  to  steal  it.  But  my  soul,  breathed  into  me 
by  God,  my  Me  and  what  capability  is  there  ;  that  is  mine, 


48 


CHARTISM. 


and  I  will  resist  the  stealing  of  it.  I  call  that  mine  and  not 
thine  ;  I  will  keep  that,  and  do  what  work  I  can  with  it :  God 
has  given  it  me,  the  Devil  shall  not  take  it  away  ! — Alas,  my 
friends,  Society  exists  and  has  existed  for  a  great  many  pur- 
poses, not  so  easy  to  specify  ! 

Society,  it  is  understood,  does  not  in  any  age,  prevent  a 
man  from  being  what  he  can  be.  A  sooty  African  can  become 
a  Toussaint  L'ouverture,  a  murderous  Three-fingered  Jack, 
let  the  yellow  West  Indies  say  to  it  what  they  will.  A  Scot- 
tish Poet,  '  proud  of  his  name  and  country,'  can  apply  fervently 
to  '  Gentlemen  of  the  Caledonian  Hunt,'  and  become  a  gauger 
of  beer-barrels,  and  tragical  immortal  broken-hearted  Singer  ; 
the  stifled  echo  of  his  melody  audible  through  long  centuries, 
one  other  note  in  '  that  sacred  Miserere '  that  rises  up  to 
Heaven,  out  of  all  times  and  lands.  What  I  can  be  thou  de- 
cidedly wilt  not  hinder  me  from  being.  Nay  even  for  being 
what  I  could  be,  I  have  the  strangest  claims  on  thee, — not 
convenient  to  adjust  at  present !  Protection  of  breeches- 
pocket  property  ?  O  reader,  to  what  shifts  is  poor  Society 
reduced,  struggling  to  give  still  some  account  of  herself,  in 
epochs  when  Cash  Payment  has  become  the  sole  nexus  of  man 
to  men  !  On  the  whole,  we  will  advise  Society  not  to  talk  at 
all  about  what  she  exists  for  ;  but  rather  with  her  whole  in- 
dustry to  exist,  to  try  how  she  can  keep  existing  !  That  is 
her  best  plan.  She  may  depend  upon  it,  if  she  ever,  by  cruel 
chance,  did  come  to  exist  only  for  protection  of  breeches- 
pocket  property,  she  would  lose  very  soon  the  gift  of  pro- 
tecting even  that,  and  find  her  career  in  our  lower  world  on 
the  point  of  terminating  ! — 

For  the  rest,  that  in  the  most  perfect  Feudal  Ages,  the 
Ideal  of  Aristocracy  nowhere  lived  in  vacant  serene  purity  as 
an  Ideal,  but  always  as  a  poor  imperfect  Actual,  little  heeding 
or  not  knowing  at  all  that  an  Ideal  lay  in  it, — this  too  we  will 
cheerfully  admit.  Imperfection,  it  is  known,  cleaves  to  human 
things  ;  far  is  the  Ideal  departed  from,  in  most  times  ;  very 
far  !  And  yet  so  long  as  an  Ideal  (any  soul  of  Truth)  does, 
in  never  so  confused  a  manner,  exist  and  work  within  the 


NOT  LAISSEZ-FAIRE. 


49 


Actual,  it  is  a  tolerable  business.  Not  so,  when  the  Ideal  has 
entirely  departed,  and  the  Actual  owns  to  itself  that  it  has 
no  Idea,  no  soul  of  Truth  any  longer  :  at  that  degree  of  im- 
perfection human  things  cannot  continue  living  ;  they  are 
obliged  to  alter  or  expire,  when  they  attain  to  that.  Blotches 
and  diseases  exist  on  the  skin  and  deeper,  the  heart  continu- 
ing whole  ;  but  it  is  another  matter  when  the  heart  itself  be- 
comes diseased  ;  when  there  is  no  heart,  but  a  monstrous 
gangrene  pretending  to  exist  there  as  heart ! 

On  the  whole,  O  reader,  thou  wilt  find  everywhere  that 
things  which  have  had  an  existence  among  men  have  first  of 
all  had  to  have  a  truth  and  worth  in  them,  and  were  not  sem- 
blances but  realities.  Nothing  but  a  reality  ever  yet  got  men 
to  pay  bed  and  board  to  it  for  long.  Look  at  Mahometanism 
itself !  Dalai-Lamaism,  even  Dalai-Lamaism,  one  rejoices  to 
discover,  maybe  worth  its  victuals  in  this  world  ;  not  a  quack- 
ery but  a  sincerity  ;  not  a  nothing  but  a  something  !  The 
mistake  of  those  who  believe  that  fraud,  force,  injustice, 
whatsoever  untrue  thing,  howsoever  cloaked  and  decorated, 
was  ever  or  can  ever  be  the  principle  of  man's  relations  to 
man,  is  great,  and  the  greatest.  It  is  the  error  of  the  infidel  ; 
in  whom  the  truth  as  yet  is  not.  It  is  an  error  pregnant  with 
mere  errors  and  miseries  ;  an  error  fatal,  lamentable,  to  be 
abandoned  by  all  men. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

NOT  LAISSEZ-FAIEE. 

How  an  Aristocracy,  in  these  present  times  and  circum- 
stances, could,  if  never  so  well  disposed,  set  about  governing 
the  Upper  Class  ?  What  they  should  do  ;  endeavour  or  attempt 
to  do  ?  That  is  even  the  question  of  questions  :— the  question 
which  they  have  to  solve  ;  which  it  is  our  utmost  function  at 
present  to  tell  them,  lies  there  for  solving,  and  must  and  will 
be  solved. 

Insoluble  we  cannot  fancy  it.    One  select  class  Society  has 
furnished  w7ith  wealth,  intelligence,  leisure,  means  outward 
4 


50 


CHARTISM. 


and  inward  for  governing  ;  another  huge  class,  furnished  by 
Society  with  none  of  these  things,  declares  that  it  must  be 
governed  :  Negative  stands  fronting  Positive  ;  if  Negative  and 
Positive  cannot  unite, — it  will  be  worse  for  both  !  Let  the 
faculty  and  earnest  constant  effort  of  England  combine  round 
this  matter  ;  let  it  once  be  recognised  as  a  vital  matter.  Innu- 
merable things  our  Upper  Classes  and  Lawgivers  might '  do  ; ' 
but  the  preliminary  of  all  things,  we  must  repeat,  is  to  know 
that  a  thing  must  needs  be  done.  We  lead  them  here  to  the 
shore  of  a  boundless  continent  ;  ask  them,  Whether  they  do 
not  with  their  own  eyes  see  it,  see  strange  symptoms  of  it, 
lying  huge,  dark,  unexplored,  inevitable ;  full  of  hope,  but 
also  full  of  difficulty,  savagery,  almost  of  despair  ?  Let  them 
enter  ;  they  must  enter ;  Time  and  Necessity  have  brought 
them  hither  ;  where  they  are  is  no  continuing  !  Let  them 
enter  ;  the  first  step  once  taken,  the  next  will  have  become 
clearer,  all  future  steps  will  become  possible.  It  is  a  great 
problem  for  all  of  us  ;  but  for  themselves,  we  may  say,  more 
than  for  any.  On  them  chiefly,  as  the  expected  solvers  of  it, 
will  the  failure  of  a  solution  first  fall.  One  way  or  other 
there  must  and  will  be  a  solution. 

True,  these  matters  lie  far,  very  far  indeed,  from  the  '  usual 
habits  of  Parliament,'  in  late  times  ;  from  the  routine  course 
of  any  Legislative  or  Administrative  body  of  men  that  exists 
among  us.  Too  true  !  And  that  is  even  the  thing  we  com- 
plain of  :  had  the  mischief  been  looked  into  as  it  gradually 
rose,  it  would  not  have  attained  this  magnitude.  That  self- 
cancelling  Donothingism  and  Laissez-faire  should  have  got  so 
ingrained  into  our  Practice,  is  the  source  of  all  these  miseries. 
It  is  too  true  that  Parliament,  for  the  matter  of  near  a  cen- 
tury now,  has  been  able  to  undertake  the  adjustment  of  al- 
most one  thing  alone,  of  itself  and  its  own  interests  ;  leaving 
other  interests  to  rub  along  very  much  as  they  could  and 
would.  True,  this  was  the  practice  of  the  whole  Eighteenth 
Century  ;  and  struggles  still  to  prolong  itself  into  the  Nine- 
teenth,— which  however  is  no  longer  the  time  for  it !  Those 
Eighteenth-century  Parliaments,  one  may  hope,  will  become  a 
curious  object  one  day.    Are  not  these  same  1  Memoires '  of 


NOT  LAISSEZ-FAIRE. 


51 


Horace  Walpole,  to  an  unparliamentary  eye,  already  a  curious 
object  ?  One  of  the  clearest-sighted  men  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century  writes  down  his  Parliamentary  observation  of  it  there  ; 
a  determined  despiser  and  merciless  dissector  of  cant ;  a  lib- 
eral withal,  one  who  will  go  all  lengths  for  the  '  glorious  rev- 
olution '  and  resist  Tory  principles  to  the  death  :  he  writes, 
with  an  indignant  elegiac  feeling,  how  Mr.  This,  who  had 
voted  so  and  then  voted  so,  and  was  the  son  of  this  and  the 
brother  of  that,  and  had  such  claims  to  the  fat  appointment, 
was  nevertheless  scandalously  postponed  to  Mr.  That ; — where- 
upon are  not  the  affairs  of  this  nation  in  a  bad  way  ?  How 
hungry  Greek  meets  hungry  Greek  on  the  floor  of  St.  Ste- 
phens, and  wrestles  him  and  throttles  him  till  he  has  to  cry, 
Hold  !  the  office  is  thine  ! — of  this  does  Horace  write. — One 
must  say,  the  destinies  of  nations  do  not  always  rest  entirely 
on  Parliament.  One  must  say,  it  is  a  wonderful  affair  that 
science  of  '  government '  as  practised  in  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury of  the  Christian  era,  and  still  struggling  to  practise  it- 
self. One  must  say,  it  was  a  lucky  century  that  could  get  it 
so  practised  :  a  century  which  had  inherited  richly  from  its 
predecessors  ;  and  also  which  did,  not  unnaturally,  bequeath 
to  its  successors  a  French  Revolution,  general  overturn,  and 
reign  of  terror  ; — intimating,  in  most  audible  thunder,  confla- 
gration, guillotinement,  cannonading  and  universal  war  and 
earthquake,  that  such  century  with  its  practices  had  ended. 

Ended  ; — for  decidedly  that  course  of  procedure  will  no 
longer  serve.  Parliament  will  absolutely,  with  whatever  effort, 
have  to  lift  itself  out  of  those  deep  ruts  of  donothing  routine  ; 
and  learn  to  say,  on  all  sides,  something  more  edifying  than 
Laissez-faire.  If  Parliament  cannot  learn  it,  what  is  to  become 
of  Parliament  ?  The  toiling  millions  of  England  ask  of  their 
English  Parliament  foremost  of  all,  Canst  thou  govern  us  or 
not  ?  Parliament  with  its  privileges  is  strong  ;  but  Necessity 
and  the  Laws  of  Nature  are  stronger  than  it.  If  Parliament 
cannot  do  this  thing,  Parliament  we  prophesy  will  do  some 
other  thing  and  things  which,  in  the  strangest  and  not  the 
happiest  way,  will  forward  its  being  done, — not  much  to  the 
advantage  of  Parliament  probably  !    Done,  one  way  or  other, 


52 


CHARTISM. 


the  thing  must  be.  In  these  complicated  times,  with  Cash 
Payment  as  the  sole  nexus  between  man  and  man,  the  Toiling 
Classes  of  mankind  declare,  in  their  confused  but  most  em- 
phatic way,  to  the  Untoiling,  that  they  will  be  governed  ;  that 
they  must — under  penalty  of  Chartisms,  Thuggeries,  Rick- 
burnings,  and  even  blacker  things  than  those.  Vain  also  is  it 
to  think  that  the  misery  of  one  class,  of  the  great  universal 
under  class,  can  be  isolated  and  kept  apart  and  peculiar,  down 
in  that  class.  By  infallible  contagion,  evident  enough  to  re- 
flection, evident  even  to  Political  Economy  that  will  reflect, 
the  misery  of  the  lowest  spreads  upwards  and  upwards  till  it 
reaches  the  very  highest ;  till  all  has  grown  miserable,  palpa- 
bly false  and  wrong ;  and  poor  drudges  hungering  con  meal- 
husks  and  boiled  grass '  do,  by  circuitous  but  sure  methods, 
bring  kings'  heads  to  the  block  ! 

Cash  Payment  the  sole  nexus  ;  and  there  are  so  many 
things  which  cash  will  not  pay  !  Cash  is  a  great  miracle  ;  yet 
it  has  not  all  power  in  Heaven,  nor  even  on  Earth.  '  Supj^ly 
and  demand '  we  will  honour  also  ;  and  yet  how  many  '  de- 
mands '  are  there,  entirely  indispensable,  which  have  to  go 
elsewhere  than  to  the  shops,  and  produce  quite  other  than 
cash,  before  they  can  get  their  supply !  On  the  whole,  what 
astonishing  payments  does  cash  make  in  this  world  !  Of  3'our 
Samuel  Johnson  furnished  with  f  fourpence  halfpenny  a-day,' 
and  solid  lodging  at  nights  on  the  paved  streets,  as  his  pay- 
ment, we  do  not  speak  ; — not  in  the  way  of  complaint :  it  is 
a  world-old  business  for  the  like  of  him,  that  same  arrange- 
ment or  a  worse  ;  perhaps  the  man,  for  his  own  uses,  had 
need  even  of  that  and  of  no  better.  Nay  is  not  Society,  busy 
with  its  Talfourd  Copyright  Bill  and  the  like,  struggling  to 
do  something  effectual  for  that  man  ; — enacting  with  all  indus- 
try that  his  own  creation  be  accounted  his  own  manufacture, 
and  continue  unstolen,  on  his  own  market-stand,  for  so  long 
as  sixty  years  ?  Perhaps  Society  is  right  there  ;  for  discrep- 
ancies on  that  side  too  may  become  excessive.  All  men  are 
not  patient  docile  Johnsons  ;  some  of  them  are  half -mad  in- 
flammable Bosseaus.  Such,  in  peculiar  times,  you  may  drive 
too  far.    In  France,  for  example,  Society  was  not  destitute  of 


NEW  ERAS. 


53 


cash  ;  Society  contrived  to  pay  Philippe  d'Orleans  not  yet  Ega- 
litc  three  hundred  thousand  a-year  and  odd,  for  driving  cabri- 
olets through  the  streets  of  Paris  and  other  work  done  :  but  in 
cash,  encouragement,  arrangement,  recompense  or  recognition 
of  any  kind,  it  had  nothing  to  give  this  same  half-mad  Ros- 
seau  for  his  work  done ;  whose  brain  in  consequence,  too 
'  much  enforced '  for  a  weak  brain,  uttered  hasty  sparks,  Gon- 
trat  Social  and  the  like,  which  proved  not  so  quenchable  again  ! 
In  regard  to  that  species  of  men  too,  who  knows  whether 
Laissez-faire  itself  (which  is  Sergeant  Talfourd's  Copyright 
Bill  continued  to  eternity  instead  of  sixty  years)  will  not  turn 
out  insufficient,  and  have  to  cease,  one  day  ? — 

Alas,  in  regard  to  so  very  many  things,  Laissez-faire  ought 
partly  to  endeavour  to  cease  !  But  in  regard  to  poor  Sans- 
potatoe  peasants,  Trades-Union  craftsmen,  Chartist  cotton- 
spinners,  the  time  has  come  when  it  must  either  cease  or 
a  worse  thing  straightway  begin, — a  thing  of  tinder-boxes, 
vitriol-bottles,  second-hand  pistols,  a  visibly  insupportable 
thing  in  the  eyes  of  all. 


CHAPTER  Yin. 

NEW  ERAS. 

For  in  very  truth  it  is  a  'new  Era  ; '  a  new  Practice  has  be- 
come indispensable  in  it.  One  has  heard  so  often  of  new 
eras,  new  and  newest  eras,  that  the  world  has  grown  rather 
empty  of  late.  Yet  new  eras  do  come  ;  there  is  no  fact  surer 
than  that  they  have  come  more  than  once.  And  always  with 
a  change  of  era,  with  a  change  of  intrinsic  conditions,  there 
had  to  be  a  change  of  practice  and  outward  relations  brought 
about, — if  not  peaceably,  then  by  violence  ;  for  brought  about 
it  had  to  be,  there  could  no  rest  come  till  then.  How  many 
cms  and  epochs,  not  noted  at  the  moment ; — which  indeed  is 
the  blessedest  condition  of  epochs,  that  they  come  quietly, 
making  no  proclamation  of  themselves,  and  are  only  visible 
long  after:  a  Cromwell  Rebellion,  a  French  Revolution 
'  striking  on  the  Horologe  of  Time,'  to  tell  all  mortals  what 
o'clock  it  has  become,  are  too  expensive,  if  one  could  help  it ! — 


5± 


CHARTISM. 


In  a  strange  rhapsodic  '  History  of  the  Teuton  Kindred 
(Geschichte  der  Teutschen  Sippschaft),'  not  yet  translated  into 
our  language,  we  have  found  a  Chapter  on  the  Eras  of  Eng- 
land, which,  were  there  room  for  it,  would  be  instructive  in 
this  place.  We  shall  crave  leave  to  excerpt  some  pages  ; 
partly  as  a  relief  from  the  too  near  vexations  of  our  own 
rather  sorrowful  Era  ;  partly  as  calculated  to  throw,  more  or 
less  obliquely,  some  degree  of  light  on  the  meanings  of  that. 
The  Author  is  anonymous ;  but  we  have  heard  him  called  the 
Herr  Professor  Sauerteig,  and  indeed  think  we  know  him 
under  that  name : 

'  Who  shall  say  what  work  and  works  this  England  has  yet 
'  to  do  ?    For  what  purpose  this  land  of  Britain  was  created, 

*  set  like  a  jewel  in  the  encircling  blue  of  Ocean  ;  and  this 
'  Tribe  of  Saxons,  fashioned  in  the  depths  of  Time,  "  on  the 

*  shores  of  the  Black  Sea  "or  elsewhere,  "out  of  Harzebirge 

*  rock  "  or  whatever  other  material,  was  sent  travelling  hither- 

*  ward  ?  No  man  can  say  :  it  was  for  a  work,  and  for  works, 
'  incapable  of  announcement  in  words.  Thou  seest  them 
4  there,  these  works  ;  part  of  them  stand  done,  and  visible  to 

*  the  eye ;  even  these  thou  canst  not  name :  how  much  less 

*  the  others  still  matter  of  prophecy  only ! — They  live  and 

*  labour  there,  these  twenty  million  Saxon  men ;  they  have 

*  been  born  into  this  mystery  of  life  out  of  the  darkness  of 

*  Past  Time  : — how  changed  now  since  the  first  Father  and 
'  first  Mother  of  them  set  forth,  quitting  the  Tribe  of  Theuth, 
'  with  passionate  farewell,  under  questionable  auspices ;  on 
'  scanty  bullock-cart,  if  they  had  even  bullocks  and  a  cart ; 
'  with  axe  and  hunting- spear,  to  subdue  a  portion  of  our  com- 

*  mon  Planet !  This  Nation  now  has  cities  and  seedfields,  has 
'  spring-vans,  dray-waggons,  Long-acre  carriages,  nay  railway 
'  trains  ;  has  coined  money,  exchange-bills,  laws,  books,  war- 
1  fleets,  S£>inning  jennies,  warehouses  and  West-India  Docks  : 
'  see  what  it  has  built  and  done,  what  it  can  and  will  yet  build 
'  and  do  !  These  umbrageous  pleasure-woods,  green  meadows, 
'shaven  stubble-fields,  smooth-sweeping  roads;  these  high- 
'  domed  cities,  and  what  they  hold  and  bear  ;  this  mild  Good- 


NEW  ERAS. 


55 


'morrow  which  the  stranger  bids  thee,  equitable,  nay  for- 
'  bearant  if  need  were,  judicially  calm  and  law-observing 
'towards  thee  a  stranger,  what  work  has  it  not  cost?  How 
'  many  brawny  arms,  generation  after  generation,  sank  down 
'  wearied  ;  how  many  noble  hearts,  toiling  while  life  lasted, 
'  and  wise  heads  that  wore  themselves  dim  with  scanning  and 
6  discerning,  before  this  waste  Whitechff,  Albion  so-called, 
£with  its  other  Cassiterides  Tin  Islands,  became  a  British 
4  Empire  !    The  stream  of  World-History  has  altered  its  com- 

*  plexion  ;  Romans  are  dead  out,  English  are  come  in.  The 
'  red  broad  mark  of  Romanhood,  stamped  ineffaceably  on  that 
'  Chart  of  Time,  has  disappeared  from  the  present,  and  be- 
'  longs  only  to  the  past.  England  plays  its  part ;  England  too 
'  has  a  mark  to  leave,  and  we  will  hope  none  of  the  least  sig- 
'  nificant.  Of  a  truth,  whosoever  had,  with  the  bodily  eye, 
'  seen  Hengst  and  Horsa  mooring  on  the  mud-beach  of 
'Thanet,  on  that  spring  morning  of  the  Year  449  ;  and  then, 
1  with  the  spiritual  eye,  looked  forward  to  New  York,  Cal- 

*  cutta,  Sidney  Cove,  across  the  ages  and  the  oceans  ;  and 
'thought  what  Wellingtons,  Washingtons,  Shakspears,  Mil- 
'  tons,  Watts,  Arkwrights,  William  Pitts  and  Davie  Crocketts 
1  had  to  issue  from  that  business,  and  do  their  several  task- 
'  words  so, — he  would  have  said,  those  leather-boats  of  Hengst's 
'  had  a  kind  of  cargo  in  them  !  A  genealogic  Mythus  superior 
'  to  any  in  the  old  Greek,  to  almost  any  in  the  old  Hebrew 
'  itself ;  and  not  a  Mythus  either,  but  every  fibre  of  it  fact. 
'An  Epic  Poem  was  there,  and  all  manner  of  poems  ;  except 
'  that  the  Poet  has  not  yet  made  his  appearance.' 

*  Six  centuries  of  obscure  endeavour,'  continues  Sauerteig, 
'  which  to  read  Historians,  you  would  incline  to  call  mere  ob- 
1  scure  slaughter,  discord,  and  misendeavour ;  of  which  all 
6  that  the  human  memory,  after  a  thousand  readings,  can  re- 
'  member,  is  that  it  resembled,  what  Milton  names  it,  the 
'  "  nocking  and  fighting  of  kites  and  crows  ; "  this,  in  brief, 
'  is  the  history  of  the  Heptarchy  or  Seven  Kingdoms.  Six 
'  centuries  ;  a  stormy  springtime,  if  there  ever  was  one,  for  a 
'  Nation.  Obscure  fighting  of  kites  and  crows,  however,  was 
i  not  the  History  of  it ;  but  was  only  what  the  dim  Historians 


56 


CHARTISM. 


'  of  it  saw  good  to  record.  Were  not  forests  felled,  bogs 
'  drained,  fields  made  arable,  towns  built,  laws  made,  and  the 
'  Thought  and  Practice  of  men  in  many  ways  perfected  ?  Ven- 
'  erable  Bede  had  got  a  language  which  he  could  now  not  only 
'  speak,  but  spell  and  put  on  paper :  think  what  lies  in  that. 
'  Bemurmured  by  the  German  sea-flood  swinging  slow  with 
'  sullen  roar  against  those  hoarse  Northumbrian  rocks,  the 
1  venerable  man  set  down  several  things  in  a  legible  man- 

*  ner.  Or  was  the  smith  idle,  hammering  only  war-tools?  He 
1  had  learned  metallurgy,  stithy-work  in  general ;  and  made 
'  plough-shares  withal,  and  adzes  and  mason-hammers.  Cas- 
1  tra,  Caesters  or  Chesters,  Dons,  Tons  (Zauns,  In  closures  or 

*  Towns),  not  a  few,  did  they  not  stand  there  ;  of  burnt  brick, 
'  of  timber,  of  lath-and-clay  ;  sending  up  the  peaceable  smoke 
1  of  hearths  ?    England  had  a  History  then  too  ;  though  no 

*  Historian  to  write  it.  »  Those  "  flockings  and  fightings,"  sad 
'  inevitable  necessities,  were  the  expensive  tentative  steps 
1  towards  some  capability  of  living  and  working  in  concert : 
'  experiments  they  were,  not  always  conclusive,  to  ascertain 

*  who  had  the  might  over  whom,  the  right  over  whom. 

'  M.  Thierry  has  written  an  ingenious  Book,  celebrating 
'  with  considerable  pathos  the  fate  of  the  Saxons,  fallen  under 
'  that  fierce-hearted  Gonquestor,  Acquirer  or  Conqueror,  as  he 

*  is  named.    M.  Thierry  professes  to  have  a  turn  for  looking 

*  at  that  side  of  things  :  the  fate  of  the  Welsh  too  moves  him ; 
'  of  the  Celts  generally,  whom  a  fiercer  race  swept  before  them 
'  into  the  mountainous  nooks  of  the  West,  whither  they  were 
'  not  worth  following.  Noble  deeds,  according  to  M.  Thierry, 
'  were  done  by  these  unsuccessful  men,  heroic  sufferings 
'  undergone  ;  which  it  is  a  pious  duty  to  rescue  from  forget- 
'  fulness.  True,  surely !  A  tear  at  least  is  due  to  the  un- 
'  happy  :  it  is  right  and  fit  that  there  should  be  a  man  to 
'  assert  that  lost  cause  too,  and  see  what  can  still  be  made  of 
'  it.  Most  right : — and  yet  on  the  whole,  taking  matters  on 
'  that  great  scale,  what  can  we  say  but  that  the  cause  which 
'  pleased  the  gods  has  in  the  end  pleased  Cato  also  ?  Cato 
'  cannot  alter  it  ;  Cato  will  find  that  he  cannot  at  bottom  wish 
'  to  alter  it.  •  Might  and  Right  do  differ  frightfully  from  hour 


NEW  ERAS. 


57 


'  to  hour  ;  but  give  them  centuries  to  try  it  in,  they  are  found 
'  to  be  identical.  Whose  land  was  this  of  Britain  ?  God's 
'  who  made  it,  His  and  no  other's  it  was  and  is.  Who  of 
'God's  creatures  had  right  to  live  in  it?  The  wolves  and 
1  bisons  ?  Yes  they  ;  till  one  with  a  better  right  showed  him- 
'  self.  The  Celt,  "aboriginal  savage  of  Europe,"  as  a  snarl- 
'  ing  antiquary  names  him,  arrived,  pretending  to  have  a 
6  better  right ;  and  did  accordingly,  not  without  pain  to  the 
'  bisons,  make  good  the  same.  He  had  a  better  right  to  that 
'  piece  of  God's  land  ;  namely  a  better  might  to  turn  it  to 
'  use  ; — a  might  to  settle  himself  there,  at  least,  and  try  what 
'  use  he  could  turn  it  to.  The  bisons  disappeared  ;  the  Celts 
'  took  possession,  and  tilled.  Forever,  was  it  to  be  ?  Alas, 
'  Forever  is  not  a  category  that  can  establish  itself  in  this 
'  world  of  Time.  A  world  of  Time,  by  the  very  definition  of 
'  it,  is  a  world  of  mortality  and  mutability,  of  Beginning  and 

*  Ending.  •  No  property  is  eternal  but  God  the  Maker's: 

*  whom  Heaven  permits  to  take  possession,  his  is  the  right : 
'  heaven's  sanction  is  such  permission, — while  it  lasts  :  nothing 
'  more  can  be  said.    Why  does  that  hyssop  grow  there,  in  the 

*  chink  of  the  wall  ?  Because  the  whole  universe,  sufficiently 
1  occupied  otherwise,  could  not  hitherto  prevent  its  growing ! 
'  It  has  the  might  and  the  right.  By  the  same  great  law  do 
'  Roman  Empires  establish  themselves,  Christian  Religions 
'  promulgate  themselves,  and  all  extant  Powers  bear  rule. 
'  The  strong  thing  is  the  just  thing  :  this  thou  wilt  find 
'  throughout  in  our  world  ; — as  indeed  was  God  and  Truth 
'  the  Maker  of  our  world,  or  was  Satan  and  Falsehood  ? 

'  One  proposition  widely  current  as  to  this  Norman  Con 
'  quest  is  of  a  Physiologic  sort:  That  the  conquerors  and  con- 
'  quered  here  were  of  different  races  ;  nay  that  the  Nobility 
1  of  England  is  still,  to  this  hour,  of  a  somewhat  different 
'  blood  from  the  commonalty,  their  fine  Norman  features  con- 
'  trasting  so  pleasantly  with  the  coarse  Saxon  ones  of  the 
1  others.  God  knows,  there  are  coarse  enough  features  to  be 
'  seen  among  the  commonalty  of  that  country  ;  but  if  the  No- 
'  bility's  be  finer,  it  is  not  their  Normanhood  that  can  be  the 
'  reason.    Does  the  above  Physiologist  reflect  who  those  same 


58 


CHARTISM. 


'  Normans,  Northmen,  originally  were  ?  Baltic  Saxons,  and 
'  what  other  miscellany  of  Lurdanes,  Jutes  and  Deutsch  Pi- 
'  rates  from  the  East-sea  marshes  would  join  them  in  plunder 
'  of  France  !  If  living  three  centuries  longer  in  Heathenism, 
'  sea-robbery,  and  the  unlucrative  fishing  of  ambergris  could 
'  ennoble  them  beyond  the  others,  then  were  they  ennobled. 
6  The  Normans  were  Saxons  who  had  learned  to  speak  French. 
c  No  :  by  Thor  and  Wodan,  the  Saxons  were  all  as  noble  as 
c  was  needful  ; — shaped,  says  the  My  thus,  "  from  the  rock  of 
'  the  Harzgebirge  ;  "  brother-tribes  being  made  of  clay,  wood, 
1  water,  or  what  other  material  might  be  going  !  A  stubborn, 
'  taciturn,  sulky,  indomitable  rock-made  race  of  men  ;  as  the 
'  figure  they  cut  in  all  quarters,  in  the  cane-brake  of  Arkansas, 
'  in  the  Ghauts  of  the  Himmalayha,  no  less  than  in  London 
'  City,  in  Warwick  or  Lancaster  County,  does  still  abun- 
'  dantly  manifest.' 


'  To  this  English  People  in  Wo  rid -History,  there  have 
1  been,  shall  I  prophesy,  Two  grand  tasks  assigned  ?  Huge- 
'  looming  through  the  dim  tumult  of  the  always  incommen- 
'  surable  Present  Time,  outlines  of  two  tasks  disclose  them- 
'  selves  :  the  grand  Industrial  task  of  conquering  some  half 
'  or  more  of  this  Terraqueous  Planet  for  the  use  of  man  ;  then 
'  secondly,  the  grand  Constitutional  task  of  sharing,  in  some 
1  pacific  endurable  manner,  the  fruit  of  said  conquest,  and 
'  showing  all  people  how  it  might  be  done.  These  I  will  call 
'  their  two  tasks,  discernible  hitherto  in  World-History :  in 
'  both  of  these  they  have  made  respectable  though  unequal 
€  progress.  Steamengines,  ploughshares,  pickaxes  ;  what  is 
'  meant  by  conquering  this  Planet,  they  partly  know.  Elec- 
'  tive  franchise,  ballot-box,  representative  assembly  ;  how  to 
'accomplish  sharing  of  that  conquest,  they  do  not  so  well 
*  know.  Europe  knows  not ;  Europe  vehemently  asks  in  these 
'  days,  but  receives  no  answer,  no  credible  answer.  For  as  to 
'the  partial  Delolmish,  Benthamee,  or  other  French  or  Eng- 
'lish  answers,  current  in  the  proper  quarters  and  highly 


NEW  ERAS.  59 

beneficial  and  indispensable  there,  thy  disbelief  in  them  as 
final  answers,  I  take  it,  is  complete.' 


'  Succession  of  rebellions  ?  Successive  clippings  away  of 
'  the  Supreme  Authority  ;  class  after  class  rising  in  revolt  to 
'  say,  "We  will  no  more  be  governed  so"  ?  That  is  not  the 
'  history  of  the  English  Constitution  ;  not  altogether  that, 
'  Rebellion  is  the  means,  but  it  is  not  the  motive  cause.  The 
' motive  cause,  and  true  secret  of  the  matter,  were  always 
1  this  :  The  necessity  there  was  for  rebelling  ? 

'  Rights  I  will  permit  thee  to  call  everywhere  correctly-arti- 
'  calated  mights.  A  dreadful  business  to  articulate  correctly  ! 
'  Consider  those  Barons  of  Runnymead  ;  consider  all  manner 
'  of  successfully  revolting  men  !  Your  Great  Charter  has  to 
'  be  experimented  on,  by  battle  and  debate,  for  a  hundred- 
'  and-fifty  years  ;  is  then  found  to  be  correct ;  and  stands  as 
1  true  Magna  Charta, — nigh  cut  in  pieces  by  a  tailor,  short  of 
1  measures,  in  later  generations.  Mights,  I  say,  are  a  dread- 
1  f  ul  business  to  articulate  correctly !  Yet  articulated  they 
'  have  to  be  ;  the  time  comes  for  it,  the  need  comes  for  it,  and 
'  with  enormous  difficulty  and  experimenting  it  is  got  done. 
'  Call  it  not  succession  of  rebellions  ;  call  it  rather  succession 
'  of  expansions,  of  enlightenments,  gift  of  articulate  utterance 
'  descending  ever  lower.  Class  after  class  acquires  faculty  of 
1  utterance, — Necessity  teaching  and  compelling  ;  as  the  dumb 
'  youth  seeing  the  knife  at  his  father's  throat,  suddenly  ac- 
'  quired  speech  !  Consider  too  how  class  after  class  not  oDly 
1  acquires  faculty  of  articulating  what  its  might  is,  but  like- 
'  wise  grows  in  might,  acquires  might  or  loses  might ;  so  that 
'  always,  after  a  space,  there  is  not  only  new  gift  of  articulat- 
'  ing,  but  there  is  something  new  to  articulate.  Constitu- 
1  tional  epochs  will  never  cease  among  men.' 


'  And  so  now,  the  Barons  all  settled  and  satisfied,  a  new 
'  class  hitherto  silent  had  begun  to  speak  ;  the  Middle  Class, 


60 


CHARTISM. 


4  namely.  In  the  time  of  James  First,  not  only  Knights  of  the 
4  Shire  but  Parliamentary  Burgesses  assemble,  to  assert,  to 
'  complain  and  propose  ;  a  real  House  of  Commons  has  come 
4  decisively  into  play, — much  to  the  astonishment  of  James 
'  First.  We  call  it  a  growth  of  mights,  if  also  of  necessities  ; 
4  a  growth  of  power  to  articulate  mights,  and  make  rights  of 
6  them. 

4  In  those  past  silent  centuries,  among  those  silent  classes, 
'  much  had  been  going  on.  Not  only  had  red-deer  in  the  New 
4  and  other  Forests  been  got  preserved  and  shot ;  and  treach- 
4  eries  of  Simon  de  Montfort,  wars  of  Ked  and  White  Koses, 
'  Battles  of  Crecy,  Battles  of  Bosworth  and  many  other  battles 
'  been  got  transacted  and  adjusted  ;  but  England  wholly,  not 
4  without  sore  toil  and  aching  bones  to  the  millions  of  sires 
'  and  the  millions  of  sons  these  eighteen  generations,  had  been 
4  got  drained  and  tilled,  covered  with  yellow  harvests,  beauti- 
'  ful  and  rich  possessions  ;  the  mud  wooden  Caesters  and 
'  Chesters  had  become  steepled  tile-roofed  compact  Towns. 
4  Sheffield  had  taken  to  the  manufacture  of  Sheffield  whittles  ; 
4  Worstead  could  from  wool  spin  yarn,  and  knit  or  weave  the 
1  same  into  stockings  or  breeches  for  men.  England  had 
4  property  valuable  to  the  auctioneer  ;  but  the  accumulated 
4  manufacturing,  commercial,  economic  skill  which  lay  impal- 
'  pably  warehoused  in  English  hands  and  heads,  what  auction- 
4  eer  could  estimate  ! 

4  Hardly  an  Englishman  to  be  met  with  but  could  do  some- 
4  thing  ;  some  cunninger  thing  than  break  his  fellow-creature's 
4  head  with  battle-axes.  The  seven  incorporated  trades,  with 
4  their  million  guild-brethren,  with  their  hammers,  their  shut- 
4  ties  and  tools,  what  an  army  ; — fit  to  conquer  that  land  of 
4  England,  as  we  say,  and  to  hold  it  conquered  !  Nay,  strangest 
4  of  all,  the  English  people  had  acquired  the  faculty  and  habit 
4  of  thinking, — even  of  believing  ;  individual  conscience  had 
4  unfolded  itself  among  them  ;  Conscience,  and  Intelligence  its 
4  handmaid.  Ideas  of  innumerable  kinds  were  circulating 
4  among  these  men  :  witness  one  Shakspeare,  a  woolcomber, 
4  poacher,  or  whatever  else  at  Stratford  in  Warwickshire,  who 
4  happened  to  write  books  !    The  finest  human  figure,  as  I  ap- 


NEW  ERAS. 


61 


'  preliend,  that  Nature  lias  hitherto  seen  fit  to  make  of  our 
1  widely  diffused  Teutonic  clay.  Saxon,  Norman,  Celt  or  Sar- 
'  mat,  I  find  no  human  soul  so  beautiful,  these  fifteen  hundred 
'  known  years  ; — our  supreme  modern  European  man.  Him 
'  England  had  contrived  to  realize  ;  were  there  not  ideas? 

1  Ideas  poetic  and  also  Puritanic, — that  had  to  seek  utter- 
1  ance  in  the  notablest  way !   England  had  got  her  Shaksj^eare  ; 

*  but  was  now  about  to  get  her  Milton  and  Oliver  Cromwell. 
1  This  too  we  will  call  a  new  expansion,  hard  as  it  might  be  to 
£  articulate  and  adjust ;  this,  that  a  man  could  actually  have 
'  a  Conscience  for  his  own  behoof,  and  not  for  his  Priest's 

*  only ;  that  his  Priest,  be  who  he  might,  would  henceforth 
'  have  to  take  that  fact  along  with  him.  One  of  the  hardest 
'  things  to  adjust !  It  is  not  adjusted  down  to  this  hour.  It 
'  lasts  onwards  to  the  time  they  call  "  Glorious  Ee volution  " 
'  before  so  much  as  a  reasonable  truce  can  be  made,  and  the 
'  war  proceed  by  logic  mainly.  And  still  it  is  war,  and  no 
'  peace,  unless  we  call  waste  vacancy  peace.    But  it  needed 

*  to  be  adjusted,  as  the  others  had  done,  as  still  others  will 
'  do.    Nobility  at  Kunnymead  cannot  endure  foul  play  grown 

*  palpable  ;  no  more  can  Gentry  in  Long  Parliament  ;  no  more 

*  can   Commonalty  in  Parliament   they   name  Keformed. 

*  Prynne's  bloody  ears  were  as  a  testimony  and  question  to  all 
'  England  :  "Englishmen,  is  this  fair?"  England,  no  longer 
'  continent  of  herself,  answered,  bellowing  as  with  the  voice 

*  of  lions  :  "  No,  it  is  not  fair !  "  ' 


■  But  now  on  the  Industrial  side,  while  this  great  Constitu- 
1  tional  controversy,  and  revolt  of  the  Middle  Class  had  not 
'  ended,  had  yet  but  begun,  what  a  shoot  was  that  that  Eng- 
'  land,  carelessly,  in  quest  of  other  objects,  struck  out  across 
'  the  Ocean,  into  the  waste  land  which  it  named  New  England  ! 
'  Hail  to  thee,  poor  little  ship  Mayflower,  of  Delft-Haven  ; 
1  poor  common-looking  ship,  hired  by  common  charter  party 
•  for  coined  dollars  ;  caulked  with  mere  oakum  and  tar  ; — pro- 
'  visioned  with  vulgarest  biscuit  and  bacon  ; — yet  what  ship 


62 


CHARTISM. 


'  Argo,  or  miraculous  epic  ship  built  by  the  Sea-gods,  was 
'  other  than  a  foolish  bumbarge  in  comparison  !  Golden 
'  fleeces  or  the  like  these  sailed  for,  with  or  without  effect ; 
'  thou  little  Mayflower  hadst  in  thee  a  veritable  Promethean 
'  spark  ;  the  life-spark  of  the  largest  Nation  on  our  Earth, — so 
'  we  may  already  name  the  Transatlantic  Saxon  Nation.  They 
'  went  seeking  leave  to  hear  sermon  in  their  own  method,  these 

*  Mayflower  Puritans  ;  a  most  honest  indispensable  search  : 
c  and  yet,  like  Saul  the  son  of  Kish,  seeking  a  small  thing,  they 
'  found  this  unexpected  great  thing!    Honour  to  the  brave 

*  and  true  ;  they  verily,  we  say,  carry  fire  from  Heaven,  and 
4  have  a  power  which  themselves  dream  not  of.  Let  all  men 
1  honour  Puritanism,  since  God  has  so  honoured  it.  Islam 
'  itself,  with  its  wild  heartfelt  "  Allah  akbar,  God  is  great,"  was 
'  it  not  honoured  ?  There  is  but  one  thing  without  honour  ; 
'  smitten  with  eternal  barrenness  and  inability  to  do  or  be  : 

*  Insincerity,  Unbelief.  He  who  believes  no  thing,  who  be- 
«  lieves  only  the  shows  of  things,  is  not  in  relation  with  Nature 
'  and  Fact  at  all.  Nature  denies  him  ;  orders  him  at  his  earli- 
'  est  convenience  to  disappear.  Let  him  disappear  from  her 
1  domains, — into  those  of  Chaos,  Hypothesis  and  Simulacrum, 
1  or  wherever  else  his  parish  may  be.' 


*  As  to  the  third  Constitutional  controversy,  that  of  the 

*  Working  Classes,  which  now  debates  itself  everywhere  these 

*  fifty  years,  in  France  specifically  since  1789,  in  England  too 
'  since  1831,  it  is  doubtless  the  hardest  of  all  to  get  articu- 

*  lated  ;  finis  of  peace,  or  even  reasonable  truce  on  this,  is  a 

*  thing  I  have  little  prospect  of  for  several  generations.  Dark, 
'  wild-weltering,  dreary,  boundless ;  nothing  heard  on  it  yet 
'  but  ballot-boxes,  Parliamentary  arguing  ;  not  to  speak  of 

*  much  far  worse  arguing,  by  steel  and  lead,  from  Valmy  to 
'  Waterloo,  to  Peterloo  ! ' 

1  And  yet  of  Representative  Assemblies  may  not  this  good 
'  be  said  :  That  contending  parties  in  a  country  do  thereby 

*  ascertain  one  another's  strength  ?    They  fight  there,  since 


NEW  ERAS. 


G3 


'  fight  they  must,  by  petition,  Parliamentary  eloquence,  not 
'  by  sword,  bayonet  and  bursts  of  military  cannon.  Why  do 
'  men  fight  at  all,  if  it  be  not  that  they  are  yet  unacquainted 
'  with  one  another's  strength,  and  must  fight  and  ascertain 
'  it  ?  Knowing  that  thou  art  stronger  than  I,  that  thou  canst 
'  compel  me,  I  will  submit  to  thee  :  unless  I  chance  to  pre- 
'  fer  extermination,  and  slightly  circuitous  suicide,  there  is  no 
'  other  course  for  me.  That  in  England,  by  public  meetings, 
'  by  petitions,  by  elections,  leading-articles,  and  other  jang- 
'  ling  hubbub  and  tongue-fence  which  perpetually  goes  on 
'  everywhere  in  that  country,  people  ascertain  one  another's 
'  strength,  and  the  most  obdurate  House  of  Lords  has  to 
'  yield  and  give  in  before  it  come  to  cannonading  and  guil- 
'  lotinement ;  this  is  a  saving  characteristic  of  England.  Nay, 
'  at  bottom,  is  not  this  the  celebrated  English  Constitution 
'itself?  This  it??spoken  Constitution,  whereof  Privilege  of 
1  Parliament,  Money-Bill,  Mutiny-Bill,  and  all  that  could  be 
'  spoken  and  enacted  hitherto,  is  not  the  essence  and  body, 
'  but  only  the  shape  and  skin  ?  Such  Constitution  is,  in  our 
'  times,  verily  invaluable.' 


'  Long  stormy  spring-time,  wet  contentious  April,  winter 
'  chilling  the  lap  of  very  May  ;  but  at  length  the  season  of 
'  summer  does  come.    So  long  the  tree  stood  naked ;  angry 

*  wiry  naked  boughs  moaning  and  creaking  in  the  wind  :  you 

*  would  say,  Cut  it  down,  why  cumbereth  it  the  ground  ? 
'  Not  so  ;  we  must  wait ;  all  things  will  have  their  time. — Of 
'  the  man  Shakspeare,  and  his  Elizabethan  Era,  with  its 
'  Sydneys,  Raleighs,  Bacons,  what  could  we  say  ? — That  it  was 
'  a  spiritual  flower-time.  Suddenly,  as  with  the  breath  of 
'  June,  your  rude  naked  tree  is  touched  ;  bursts  into  leaves 

*  and  flowerS,  such  leaves  and  flowers.    The  past  long  ages  of 

*  nakedness,  and  wintry  fermentation  and  elaboration,  have 
1  done  their  part,  though  seeming  to  do  nothing.  The  past 
1  silence  has  got  a  voice,  all  the  more  significant  the  longer  it 

*  had  continued  silent.    In  trees,  men,  institutions,  creeds, 


G4 


CHARTISM. 


'  nations,  in  all  things  extant  and  growing  m  this  universe, 
'  we  may  note  such  vicissitudes,  and  budding-times.  More- 
'  over  there  are  spiritual  budding-times  ;  and  then  also  there 
'  are  physical  appointed  to  nations. 

'  Thus  in  the  middle  of  that  poor  calumniated  Eighteenth 
'  Century,  see  once  more  !  Long  winter  again  past,  the  dead- 
'  seeming  tree  proves  to  be  living,  to  have  been  always  living, 

*  after  motionless  times,  every  bough  shoots  forth  on  the  sud- 
'  den,  very  strangely  : — it  now  turns  out  that  this  favoured 
'  England  was  not  only  to  have  had  her  Shakspeares,  Bacons, 
'  Sydneys,  but  to  have  her  Watts,  Arkwrights,  Brindleys  !  We 
'  will  honour  greatness  in  all  kinds.  The  Prospero  evoked 
'  the  singing  of  Ariel,  and  took  captive  the  world  with  those 
'  melodies :  the  same  Prospero  can  send  his  Fire-demons 
'panting  across  all  oceans;  shooting  with  the  speed  of  me- 
'  teors,  on  cunning  highways,  from  end  to  end  of  kingdoms  ; 
'  and  make  Iron  his  missionary,  preaching  its  evangel  to  the 
'  brute  Primeval  Powers,  which  listen  and  obey :  neither  is 
1  this  small.  Manchester,  with  its  cotton-fuz,  its  smoke  and 
'  dust,  its  tumult  and  contentious  squalor,  is  hideous  to  thee  ? 
'  Think  not  so :  a  precious  substance,  beautiful  as  magic 
1  dreams,  and  yet  no  dream  but  a  reality,  lies  hidden  in  that 
'  noisome  wrappage  ; — a  wrappage  struggling  indeed  (look  at 
c  Chartisms  and  such  like)  to  cast  itself  off,  and  leave  the 
1  beauty  free  and  visible  there  !    Hast  thou  heard,  with  sound 

*  ears,  the  awakening  of  a  Manchester,  on  Monday  morning,  at 
1  half  past  five  by  the  clock  ;  the  rushing  off  of  its  thousand 
'  mills,  like  the  broom  of  an  Atlantic  tide,  ten  thousand  times 
'  ten  thousand  spools  and  spindles  all  set  humming  there, — it 
'  is  perhaps,  if  thou  knew  it  well,  sublime  as  a  Niagara,  or 

*  more  so.  Cotton-spinning  is  the  clothing  of  the  naked  in 
'its  result;  the  triumph  of  man  over  matter  in  its  means. 
1  Soot  and  despair  are  not  the  essence  of  it ;  they  are  divisible 
'from  it, — at  this  hour,  are  they  not  crying  fiercely  to  be 
■  divided?  The  great  Goethe,  looking  at  cotton  Switzerland, 
1  declared  it,  I  am  told,  to  be  of  all  things  that  he  had  seen  in 
'  this  world  the  most  poetical.  Whereat  friend  Kanzler  von 
4  Miiller,  in  search  of  the  palpable  picturesque,  could  not  but 


NEW  ERAS. 


65 


'stare  wide-eyed.  Nevertheless  our  World-Poet  knew  well 
4  what  he  was  saying.' 

'  Richard  Arkwright,  it  would  seem,  was  not  a  beautiful 
'  man  ;  no  romance-hero  with  haughty  eyes,  Apollo-lip,  and 
'  gesture  like  the  herald  Mercury  ;  a  plain  almost  gross,  bag- 
'  cheeked,  potbellied  Lancashire  man,  with  an  air  of  painful 
'  reflection,  yet  also  of  copious  free  digestion  ; — a  man  sta- 
1  tioned  by  the  community  to  shave  certain  dusty  beards,  in  the 

*  Northern  parts  of  England,  at  a  half-penny  each.  To  such 
'  end,  we  say,  by  forethought,  oversight,  accident  and  arrange- 
'  ment,  had  Richard  Arkwright  been,  by  the  community  of 
1  England  and  his  own  consent,  set  apart.  Nevertheless,  in 
'  strapping  of  razors,  in  lathering  of  dusty  beards,  and  the 
'  contradictions  and  confusions  attendant  thereon,  the  man 
'  had  notions  in  that  rough  head  of  his  ;  spindles,  shuttles, 
'  wheels  and  contrivances  plying  ideally  within  the  same  ; 
'  rather  hopeless-looking  ;  which,  however,  he  did  at  last  bring 
'  to  bear.  Not  without  difficulty.  His  townsfolk  rose  in  mob 
'  round  him,  for  threatening  to  shorten  labour,  to  shorten 
1  wages ;  so  that  he  had  to  fly,  with  broken  washpots,  scat- 
'  tered  household,  and  seek  refuge  elsewhere.  Nay  his  wife 
'  too,  as  I  learn,  rebelled  ;  burnt  his  wooden  model  of  his 
'  spinning  wheel ;  resolute  that  he  should  stick  to  his  razors 
'  rather :  for  which,  however,  he  decisively,  as  thou  wilt  rejoice 
'  to  understand,  packed  her  out  of  doors.  O  reader,  what  a 
'  Historical  Phenomenon  is  that  bag-cheeked,  potbellied,  much 
'  enduring,  much-inventing  man  and  barber  ?  French  Revo- 
'  lutions  were  a  brewing  :  to  resist  the  same  in  any  measure, 
( imperial  Kaisers  were  impotent  without  the  cotton  and  cloth 
'  of  England  :  and  it  was  this  man  that  had  to  give  England 
'  the  power  of  cotton.' 

'  Neither  had  Watt  of  the  Steamengine  a  heroic  origin,  any 

*  kindred  with  the  princes  of  this  world.    The  princes  of  this 

*  world  were*  shooting  their  partridges  ;  noisily,  in  Parliament 
1  or  elsewhere,  solving  the  question,  Head  or  tail  ?  while  this 
'  man,  with  blackened  fingers,  with  grim  brow,  was  searching 
'  out,  in  his  workshop,  the  Fire-secret ;  or,  having  found  it, 
4  was  painfully  wending  to  and  fro  in  quest  of  a  "  monied 

5 


06 


CHARTISM. 


*  man  "  as  indispensable  man-midwife  of  the  same.  Reader, 
'  thou  shalt  admire  what  is  admirable,  not  what  is  dressed  in 
£  admirable.  Thou  shalt  learn  to  know  the  British  lion  even 
1  when  he  is  not  throne-supporter,  and  also  the  British  jack- 
'  ass  in  lion's  skin  even  when  he  is.  Ah,  couldst  thou  always, 
'  what  a  world  were  it !  But  has  the  Berlin  Royal  Academy 
1  or  any  English  Useful- Knowledge  Society  discovered,  for  in- 
'  stance,  who  it  was  that  first  scratched  earth  with  a  stick  ;  and 
'  threw  corns,  the  biggest  he  could  find,  into  it ;  seed  grains  of 
'  a  certain  grass,  which,  he  named  white  or  wheat  ?  Again,  what 
'  is  the  whole  Tees-water  and  other  breeding  world  to  bim  who 
'  stole  home  from  the  forests  the  first  bison-calf,  and  bred  it 

*  up  to  be  a  tame  bison,  a  milk-cow  ?  No  machine  of  all  they 
'  showed  me  in  Birmingham  can  be  put  in  comparison  for  in- 
'  genuity  with  that  figure  of  the  wedge  named  knife,  of  the 
4  wedges  named  saw,  of  the  lever  named  hammer: — nay  is  it 
1  not  with  the  hammer-knife,  named  sword,  that  men  fight,  and 
'  maintain  any  semblance  of  constituted  authority  that  yet 

*  survives  among  us  ?  The  steamengine  I  call  fire-demon  and 
'  great  ;  but  it  is  nothing  to  the  invention  of  fire.  Prome- 
'  theus,  Tubal-cain,  Triptolemus  !  Are  not  our  greatest  men 
■  as  good  as  lost?  The  men  that  walk  daily  among  us,  cloth - 
'  ing  us,  warming  us,  feeding  us,  walk  shrouded  in  darkness, 
'  mere  mythic  men. 

'It  is  said,  ideas  produce  revolutions  :  and  truly  so  they  do  ; 
'  not  spiritual  ideas  only,  but  even  mechanical.  In  this  clang- 
'  ing  clashing  universal  Sword-dance  which  the  European 
'  world  now  dances  for  the  last  half-century,  Voltaire  is  but 
'  one  choragus,  where  Richard  Arkwright  is  another.  Let  it 
'dance  itself  out.  When  Arkwright  shall  have  become 
'  mythic  like  Arachne,  we  shall  spin  in  peaceable  profit  by 
'  him  ;  and  the  Sword-dance,  with  all  its  sorrowful  shufflings, 
'  Waterloo  waltzes,  Moscow  gallopades,  how  forgotten  will 
'that  be  !' 


'  On  the  whole,  were  not  all  these  things  most  unexpected, 
'  unforeseen  ?  As  indeed  what  thing  is  foreseen  ;  especially 
'what  man,  the  parent  of  things  !    Robert  Clive  in  that  same 


NEW  ERAS. 


67 


'time  went  out,  with  a  developed  gift  of  penmanship,  as 
'  writer  or  superior  book-keeper  to  a  Trading  Factory  estab- 
'  lished  in  the  distant  East.  With  gift  of  penmanship  devel- 
'  oped  ;  with  other  gifts  not  yet  developed,  which  the  calls  of 
'  the  case  did  by  and  by  develope.  Not  fit  for  book-keeping 
'  alone,  the  man  was  found  fit  for  conquering  Nawaubs,  f  ound- 
'  ing  kingdoms,  Indian  Empires  !  In  a  questionable  manner, 
'  Indian  Empire  from  the  other  hemisphere  took  up  its  abode 
'  in  Leadenhall  Street,  in  the  City  of  London. 

'  Accidental  all  these  things  and  persons  look,  unexpected 
'every  one  of  them  to  man.  Yet  inevitable  every  one  of 
'  them  ;  foreseen,  not  unexpected,  by  Supreme  Power  ;  pre- 
'  pared,  appointed  from  afar.  Advancing  always  through  all 
'centuries,  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  they  arrived. 
'  The  Saxon  kindred  burst  forth  into  cotton-spinning,  cloth- 
'  cropping,  iron-forging,  steam-engining,  railwaying,  commerc- 
'  ing  and  careering  towards  all  the  winds  of  Heaven, — in  this 
'  inexplicable  noisy  manner  ;  the  noise  of  which,  in  Power- 
'  mills,  in  progress-of-the-species  Magazines,  still  deafens  us 
'  somewhat.  Most  noisy,  sudden  !  The  Staffordshire  coal- 
1  stratum  and  coal-strata,  lay  side  by  side  with  iron-strata, 
'  quiet  since  the  creation  of  the  world  !  Water  flowed  in 
'  Lancashire  and  Lanarkshire  ;  bituminous  fire  lay  bedded  in 
'  rocks  there  too, — over  which  how  many  fighting  Stanleys, 
'  black  Douglases,  and  other  the  like  contentious  persons,  had 
1  fought  out  their  bickerings  and  broils,  not  without  result, 
'we  will  hope  !  But  God  said,  Let  the  iron  missionaries  be  ; 
'and  they  were.  Coal  and  iron,  so  long  close  unregardful 
'  neighbours,  are  wedded  together  ;  Birmingham  and  Wol- 
'  verhampton,  and  the  hundred  Stygian  forges,  with  their  fire- 
'  throats  and  never-resting  sledge-hammers,  rose  into  day. 
'  W et  Mancunium  stretched  out  her  hand  towards  Carolina 
'  and  the  torrid  zone,  and  plucked  cotton  there  :  who  could 
'  forbid  her,  her  that  had  the  skill  to  weave  it  ?  Fish  fled 
'  thereupon  from  the  Mersey  Kiver,  vexed  with  innumerable 
'  keels.  England,  I  say,  dug  out  her  bitumen-fire,  and  bade 
'  it  work  :  towns  rose,  and  steeple-chimneys  ; — Chartisms 
'also,  and  Parliaments  they  name  Reformed.5 


68 


CHARTISM. 


Such,  figuratively  given,  are  some  prominent  points,  chief 
mountain-summits,  of  our  English  history  past  and  present, 
according  to  the  Author  of  this  strange  untranslated  Work, 
whom  we  think  we  recognise  to  be  an  old  acquaintance. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PARLIAMENTARY  RADICALISM. 

To  us  looking  at  these  matters  somewhat  in  the  same  light, 
Reform-Bills,  French  Revolutions,  Louis-Philippes,  Chartisms. 
Revolts  of  Three  Days,  and  what  not,  are  no  longer  inexpli- 
cable. Where  the  great  mass  of  men  is  tolerably  right,  all  is 
right ;  where  they  are  not  right,  all  is  wrong.  The  speaking 
classes  speak  and  debate,  each  for  itself  ;  the  great  dumb, 
deep-buried  class  lies  like  an  Enceladus,  who  in  his  pain,  if  he 
will  complain  of  it,  has  to  produce  earthquakes  !  Everywhere, 
in  these  countries,  in  these  times,  the  central  fact  wTorthy  of  all 
consideration  forces  itself  on  us  in  this  shape  :  the  claim  of 
the  Free  Working  man  to  be  raised  to  a  level,  we  may  sa}-, 
with  the  Working  Slave,  his  anger  and  cureless  discontent 
till  that  be  done.  Food,  shelter,  due  guidance,  in  return  for 
his  labour  :  candidly  interpreted,  Chartism  and  all  such  isms 
mean  that ;  and  the  madder  they  are,  do  they  not  the  more 
emphatically  mean,  "  See  what  guidance  you  have  given  us  ! 
What  delirium  we  are  brought  to  talk  and  project,  guided  by 
nobody  !  "  Laissez-faire  on  the  part  of  the  Governing  Classes, 
we  repeat  again  and  again,  will,  with  whatever  difficulty,  have 
to  cease  ;  pacific  mutual  division  of  the  spoil,  and  a  world 
well  let  alone,  will  no  longer  suffice.  A  Do-nothing  Guid- 
ance ;  and  it  is  a  Do-something  World  !  Would  to  God  our 
Ducal  Duces  would  become  leaders  indeed  ;  our  Aristocracies 
and  Priesthoods  discover  in  some  suitable  degree  what  the 
world  expected  of  them,  what  the  world  could  no  longer  do 
without  getting  of  them  !  Nameless  unmeasured  confusions, 
misery  to  themselves  and  us,  might  so  be  spared.  But  that 
too  will  be  as  God  has  appointed.  If  they  learn,  it  will  be 
well  and  happy  :  if  not  they,  then  others  instead  of  them  will 


PARLIAMENTARY  RADICALISM. 


69 


and  must,  and  once  more,  though  after  a  long  sad  circuit,  it 
will  be  well  and  happy. 

Neither  is  the  history  of  Chartism  mysterious  in  these 
times  ;  especially  if  that  of  Kadicalism  be  looked  at.  All 
along  for  the  last  five- and- twenty  years,  it  was  curious  to 
note  how  the  internal  discontent  of  England  struggled  to  find 
vent  for  itself  through  any  orifice  :  the  poor  patient  all  sick 
from  centre  to  surface,  complains  now  of  this  member,  now  of 
that ; — corn-laws,  currency-laws,  free-trade,  protection,  want 
of  free-trade :  the  poor  patient  tossing  from  side  to  side, 
seeking  a  sound  side  to  lie  on,  finds  none.  This  Doctor  says, 
it  is  the  liver ;  that  other,  it  is  the  lungs,  the  head,  \he  heart, 
defective  transpiration  in  the  skin.  A  thorough-going  Doctor 
of  eminence  said,  it  was  rotten  boroughs  ;  the  want  of  ex- 
tended suffrage  to  destroy  rotten  boroughs.  From  of  old 
the  English  patient  himself  had  a  continually  recurring 
notion  that  this  was  it.  ""^The  English  people  are  used  to  suf- 
frage ;  it  is  their  panacea  for  all  that  goes  wrong  with  them  ; 
they  have  a  fixed-idea  of  suffrage.  Singular  enough  ;  one's 
right  to  vote  for  a  Member  of  Parliament,  to  send  one's 
'  twenty  thousandth  part  of  a  master  of  tongue-fence  to 
National  Palaver,' — the  Doctors  asserted  that  this  was  Free- 
dom, this  and  no  other.  It  seemed  credible  to  many  men, 
of  high  degree  and  of  low.  The  persuasion  of  remedy  grew, 
the  evil  was  pressing  ;  Swing's  ricks  were  on  fire.  Some  nine 
years  ago,  a  State-surgeon  rose,  and  in  peculiar  circumstances 
said  :  Let  there  be  extension  of  the  suffrage  ;  let  the  great 
Doctor's  nostrum,  the  patient's  old  passionate  prayer  be 
fulfilled  ! 

Parliamentary  Radicalism,  while  it  gave  articulate  utterance 
to  the  discontent  of  the  English  people,  could  not  by  its 
worst  enemy  be  said  to  be  without  a  function.  If  it  is  in  the 
natural  order  of  things  that  there  must  be  discontent,  no  less 
so  is  it  that  such  discontent  should  have  an  outlet,  a  Parlia- 
mentary voice.  Here  the  matter  is  debated  of,  demonstrated, 
contradicted,  qualified,  reduced  to  feasibility  ; — can  at  least 
solace  itself  with  hope,  and  die  gently,  convicted  of  unie&si- 
bility.    The  New,  Untried  ascertains  how  it  will  fit  itself  into 


70 


CHARTISM 


the  arrangements  of  the  Old ;  whether  the  Old  can  be  com- 
pelled to  admit  it ;  how  in  that  case  it  may,  with  the  minimum 
of  violence,  be  admitted.  Nor  let  us  count  it  an  easy  one, 
this  function  of  Radicalism  ;  it  was  one  of  the  most  difficult. 
The  pain-stricken  patient  does,  indeed,  without  effort  groan 
and  complain  ;  but  not  without  effort  does  the  physician  as- 
certain what  it  is  that  has  gone  wrong  with  him,  how  some 
remedy  may  be  devised  for  him.  And  above  all,  if  your  pa- 
tient is  not  one  sick  man,  but  a  whole  sick  nation  !  Dingy 
dumb  millions,  grimed  with  dust  and  sweat,  with  darkness, 
rage  and  sorrow,  stood  round  these  men,  saying,  or  struggling 
as  they  could  to  say  :  "  Behold,  our  lot  is  unfair  ;  our  life  is 
not  whole  but  sick  :  we  cannot  live  under  injustice  ;  go  ye  and 
get  us  justice  !  "  For  whether  the  poor  operative  clamoured 
for  Time-bill,  Factory-bill,  Corn-bill,  for  or  against  whatever 
bill,  this  was  what  he  meant.  All  bills  plausibly  presented 
might  have  some  look  of  hope  in  them,  might  get  some 
clamour  of  approval  from  him  ;  as,  for  the  man  wholly  sick, 
there  is  no  disease  in  the  Nosology  but  he  can  trace  in  him- 
self some  symptoms  of  it.  Such  was  the  mission  of  Parlia- 
mentary Radicalism. 

How  Parliamentary  Radicalism  has  fulfilled  this  mission, 
entrusted  to  its  management  these  eight  years  now,  is  known 
to  all  men.  The  expectant  millions  have  sat  at  a  feast  of  the 
Barmecide  ;  been  bidden  fill  themselves  with  imagination  of 
meat.  "What  thing  has  Radicalism  obtained  for  them  ;  what 
other  than  shadows  of  things  has  it  so  much  as  asked  for 
them  ?  Cheap  Justice,  Justice  to  Ireland,  Irish  Appropriation- 
Clause,  Rate-paying  Clause,  Poor-Rate,  Church-Rate,  House- 
hold Suffrage,  Ballot-Question  '  open '  or  shut :  not  things  but 
shadows  of  things  ;  Benthamee  formulas ;  barren  as  the  east- 
wind  !  An  Ultra-radical,  not  seemingly  of  the  Benthamee 
species,  is  forced  to  exclaim  :  '  The  people  are  at  last  wearied. 
'  They  say,  Why  should  we  be  ruined  in  our  shops,  thrown 
1  out  of  our  farms,  voting  for  these  men  ?  Ministerial  major- 
'  ities  decline  ;  this  Ministry  has  become  impotent,  had  it 
'  even  the  will  to  do  good.  They  have  called  long  to  us, 
'  "  We  are  a  Reform  Ministry  ;  will  ye  not  support  us?  "  We 


PARLIAMENTARY  RADICALISM. 


71 


*  have  supported  them  ;  borne  them  forward  indignantly  on 

*  our  shoulders,  time  after  time,  fall  after  fall,  when  they  had 
'  been  hurled  out  into  the  street ;  and  lay  prostrate,  helpless, 
'  like  dead  luggage.  '  It  is  the  fact  of  a  Reform  Ministry,  not 

*  the  name  of  one  that  we  would  support !  Languor,  sickness 
'  of  hope  deferred  pervades  the  public  mind  ;  the  public 

*  mind  says  at  last,  Why  all  this  struggle  for  the  name  of  a 
'  Eeform  Ministry  ?  Let  the  Tories  be  Ministry  if  they  will ; 
'  let  at  least  some  living  reality  be  Ministry  !  A  rearing  horse 
'  that  will  only  run  backward,  he  is  not  the  horse  one  would 

*  choose  to  travel  on  :  yet  of  all  conceivable  horses  the  worst 
'  is  the  dead  horse.  Mounted  on  a  rearing  horse,  you  may 
'  back  him,  spur  him,  check  him,  make  a  little  way  even  back- 
'  wards ;  but  seated  astride  of  your  dead  horse,  what  chance 
'  is  there  for  you  in  the  chapter  of  possibilities  ?  You  sit 
'  motionless,  hopeless,  a  spectacle  to  gods  and  men.' 

There  is  a  class  of  revolutionists  named  Girondins,  whose 
fate  in  history  is  remarkable  enough !  Men  who  rebel,  and 
urge  the  Lower  Classes  to  rebel,  ought  to  have  other  than 
Formulas  to  go  upon.  Men  who  discern  in  the  misery  of  the 
toiling  complaining  millions  not  misery,  but  only  a  raw-mate- 
rial which  can  be  wrought  upon,  and  traded  in,  for  one's  own 
poor  hidebound  theories  and  egoisms  ;  to  whom  millions  of 
living  fellow-creatures,  with  beating  hearts  in  their  bosoms, 
beating,  suffering,  hoping,  are  'masses,'  mere  'explosive 
masses  for  blowing  down  Bastilles  with,'  for  voting  at  hust- 
ings for  w  :  such  men  are  of  the  questionable  species  !  No 
man  is  justified  in  resisting  by  word  or  deed  the  Authority  he 
lives  under,  for  a  light  cause,  be  such  Authority  what  it  may. 
Obedience,  little  as  many  may  consider  that  side  of  the  mat- 
ter, is  the  primary  duty  of  man.  No  man  but  is  bound  in- 
defeasibly,  with  all  force  of  obligation,  to  obey.  Parents, 
teachers,  superiors,  leaders,  these  all  creatures  recognise  as 
deserving  obedience.  Recognised  or  not  recognised,  a  man 
has  his  superiors,  a  regular  hierarchy  above  him  ;  extending 
up,  degree  above  degree  ;  to  Heaven  itself  and  God  the 
Maker,  who  made  His  world  not  for  anarchy  but  for  rule  and 
order !    It  is  not  a  light  matter  when  the  just  man  can  recog- 


72 


CHARTISM. 


nise  in  the  powers  set  over  him  no  longer  anything  that  is  di- 
vine ;  when  resistance  against  such  becomes  a  deeper  law  of 
order  than  obedience  to  them  ;  when  the  just  man  sees  himself 
in  the  tragical  position  of  a  stirrer  up  of  strife  !  Kebel  with- 
out due  and  most  due  cause,  is  the  ugliest  of  words  ;  the  first 
rebel  was  Satan. 

But  now  in  these  circumstances  shall  we  blame  the  unvot- 
ing disappointed  millions  that  they  turn  away  with  horror 
from  this  name  of  a  Reform  Ministry,  name  of  a  Parliamentary 
Radicalism,  and  demand  a  fact  and  reality  thereof?  That 
they  too,  having  still  faith  in  what  so  many  had  faith  in,  still 
count  '  extension  of  the  suffrage '  the  one  thing  needful ;  and 
say,  in  such  manner  as  they  can,  Let  the  suffrage  be  still  ex- 
tended, then  all  will  be  well  ?  It  is  the  ancient  British  faith  ; 
promulgated  in  these  ages  by  prophets  and  evangelists  ; 
preached  forth  from  barrel-heads  by  all  manner  of  men.  He 
who  is  free  and  blessed  has  his  twenty-thousandth  part  of  a 
master  of  tongue-fence  in  National  Palaver  ;  whosoever  is  not 
blessed  but  unhappy,  the  ailment  of  him  is  that  he  has  it  not. 
Ought  he  not  to  have  it  then  ?  By  the  law  of  God  and  of 
men,  Yea  ; — and  will  have  it  withal !  Chartism,  with  its  '  five 
points,'  born  aloft  on  pikeheads  and  torchlight  meetings,  is 
there.  Chartism  is  one  of  the  most  natural  phenomena  in 
England.  Not  that  Chartism  now  exists  should  provoke  won- 
der ;  but  that  the  invited  hungry  people  should  have  sat  eight 
years  at  such  table  of  the  Barmecide,  patiently  expecting 
somewhat  from  the  Name  of  a  Reform  Ministry,  and  not  till 
after  eight  years  have  grown  hopeless,  this  is  the  respectable 
side  of  the  miracle. 


CHAPTER  X. 

IMPOSSIBLE. 

"But  what  are  we  to  do?  "  exclaims  the  practical  man,  im- 
patiently on  every  side  :  "Descend  from  speculation  and  the 
safe  pulpit,  down  into  the  rough  market-place,  and  say  what 
can  be  done  !  " — O  practical  man,  there  seem  very  many  things 


IMPOSSIBLE. 


73 


which  practice  and  true  manlike  effort,  in  Parliament  and  out 
of  it,  might  actually  avail  to  do.  But  the  first  of  all  things, 
as  already  said,  is  to  gird  thyself  up  for  actual  doing  ;  to  know 
that  thou  actually  either  must  do,  or,  as  the  Irish  say,  '  come 
out  of  thai' 

It  is  not  a  lucky  word  this  same  impossible  :  no  good  comes 
of  those  that  have  it  so  often  in  their  mouth.  Who  is  he 
that  says  always,  There  is  a  lion  in  the  way  ?  Sluggard,  thou 
must  slay  the  lion,  then  ;  the  way  has  to  be  travelled  !  In 
Art,  in  Practice,  innumerable  critics  will  demonstrate  that 
most  things  are  henceforth  impossible  ;  that  we  are  got,  once 
for  all,  into  the  region  of  perennial  commonplace,  and  must 
contentedly  continue  there.  Let  such  critics  demonstrate  ; 
it  is  the  nature  of  them  :  what  harm  is  in  it  ?  Poetry  once 
well  demonstrated  to  be  impossible,  arises  the  Burns,  arises 
the  Goethe.  Unheroic  commonplace  being  now  clearly  all 
we  have  to  look  for,  comes  the  Napoleon,  comes  the  conquest 
of  the  world.  It  was  proved  by  fluxionary  calculus,  that 
steamships  could  never  get  across  from  the  farthest  point  of 
Ireland  to  the  nearest  of  Newfoundland  :  impelling  force,  re- 
sisting force,  maximum  here,  minimum  there  ;  by  law  of  Na- 
ture, and  geometric  demonstration  ; — what  could  be  done  ? 
The  Great  Western,  could  weigh  anchor  from  Bristol  Port  ; 
that  could  be  done.  The  Great  Western,  bounding  safe 
through  the  gullets  of  the  Hudson,  threw  her  cable  out  on 
the  capstan  of  New  York,  and  left  our  still  moist  paper-dem- 
onstration to  dry  itself  at  leisure.  "Impossible?"  cried 
Mirabeau  to  his  secretary,  "  Ne  me  dites  jamais  ce  bCte  de  mot, 
Never  name  to  me  that  blockhead  of  a  word  !  " 

There  is  a  phenomenon  which  one  might  call  Paralytic 
Radicalism,  in  these  days  ;  which  gauges  with  Statistic  meas- 
uring-reed, sounds  with  Philosophic  Politico-Economic  plum- 
met the  deep  dark  sea  of  troubles  ;  and  having  taught  us 
rightly  what  an  infinite  sea  of  troubles  it  is,  sums  up  with  the 
practical  inference,  and  use  of  consolation.  That  nothing  what- 
ever can  be  done  in  it  by  man,  who  has  simply  to  sit  still,  and 
look  wistfully  to  '  time  and  general  laws  ; '  and  thereupon 
without  so  much  as  recommending  suicide,  coldly  takes  its 


74 


CHARTISM. 


leave  of  us.  Most  paralytic,  uninstructive ;  unproductive  of 
any  comfort  to  one  !  They  are  an  unreasonable  class  who  cry, 
"Peace,  peace,"  when  there  is  no  peace.  But  what  kind  of 
class  are  they  who  cry,  "Peace,  peace,  have  I  not  told  you  that 
there  is  no  peace  ! "  Paralytic  Kadicalism,  frequent  among 
those  Statistic  friends  of  ours,  is  one  of  the  most  afflictive  phe- 
nomena the  mind  of  men  can  be  called  to  contemplate.  One 
prays  that  it  at  least  might  cease.  Let  Paralysis  retire  into 
secret  places,  and  dormitories  proper  for  it ;  the  public  high- 
ways ought  not  to  be  occupied  by  people  demonstrating  that 
motion  is  impossible.  Paralytic  ; — and  also,  thank  Heaven, 
entirely  false  !  Listen  to  a  thinker  of  another  sort :  '  All  evil, 
'  and  this  evil  too,  is  as  a  nightmare  ;  the  instant  you  begin 
'  to  stir  under  it,  the  evil  is  properly  speaking  gone.'  Consider, 
O  reader,  whether  it  be  not  actually  so  ?  Evil,  once  manfully 
fronted,  ceases  to  be  evil ;  there  is  generous  battle-hope  in 
place  of  dead  passive  misery  ;  the  evil  itself  has  become  a  kind 
of  good. 

To  the  practical  man,  therefore,  we  will  repeat  that  he  has, 
as  the  first  thing  he  can  'do,'  to  gird  himself  up  for  actual 
doing  ;  to  know  well  that  he  is  either  there  to  do,  or  not 
there  at  all.  Once  rightly  girded  up,  how  many  things  will 
present  themselves  as  doable  which  now  are  not  attemptible  ! 
Two  things,  great  things  dwell  for  the  last  ten  years,  in  all 
thinking  heads  in  England ;  and  are  hovering,  of  late,  even 
on  the  tongues  of  not  a  few.  With  a  word  on  each  of  these, 
we  will  dismiss  the  practical  man,  and  right  gladly  take  our- 
selves into  obscurity  and  silence  again.  Universal  Education 
is  the  first  great  thing  we  mean ;  general  Emigration  is  the 
second. 

Who  would  suppose  that  Education  were  a  thing  which  had 
to  be  advocated  on  the  ground  of  local  expediency,  or  indeed 
on  any  ground  ?  As  if  it  stood  not  on  the  basis  of  everlasting 
duty,  as  a  prime  necessity  of  man.  It  is  a  thing  that  should 
need  no  advocating  ;  much  as  it  does  actually  need.  To  im- 
part the  gift  of  thinking  to  those  who  cannot  think,  and  yet 
who  could  in  that  case  think  :  this,  one  would  imagine,  was 
the  first  function  a  government  had  to  set  about  discharging. 


IMPOSSIBLE. 


75 


Were  it  not  a  cruel  thing  to  see,  in  any  province  of  an  empire, 
the  inhabitants  living  all  mutilated  in  their  limbs,  each  strong 
man  with  his  right  arm  lamed  ?  How  much  crueller  to  find 
the  strong  soul,  with  its  eyes  still  sealed,  its  eyes  extinct  so 
that  it  sees  not !  Light  has  come  into  the  world,  but  to  this 
poor  peasant  it  has  come  in  vain.  For  six  thousand  years  the 
Sons  of  Adam,  in  sleepless  effort,  have  been  devising,  doing, 
discovering;  in  mysterious  infinite  indissoluble  communion, 
warring,  a  little  band  of  brothers,  against  the  great  black  em- 
pire of  Necessity  and  Night ;  they  have  accomplished  such  a 
conquest  and  conquests  :  and  to  this  man  it  is  all  as  if  it  had 
not  been.  The  four-and-twenty  letters  of  the  Alphabet  are 
still  Kunic  enigmas  to  him.  He  passes  by  on  the  other  side  ; 
and  that  great  Spiritual  Kingdom,  the  toil  won  conquest  of  his 
own  brothers,  all  that  his  brothers  have  conquered,  is  a  thing 
non-extant  for  him.  An  invisible  empire ;  he  knows  it  not, 
suspects  it  not.  And  is  it  not  his  withal ;  the  conquest  of  his 
own  brothers,  the  lawfully  acquired  possession  of  all  men  ? 
Baleful  enchantment  lies  over  him,  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion ;  he  knows  not  that  such  an  empire  is  his,  that  such  au 
empire  is  at  all.  Oh,  what  are  bills  of  rights,  emancipations 
of  black  slaves  into  black  apprentices,  lawsuits  in  chancery  for 
some  short  usufruct  of  a  bit  of  land?  The  grand  'seedfield 
of  Time '  is  this  man's,  and  you  give  it  him  not.  Time's  seed- 
field,  which  includes  the  Earth  and  all  her  seedfields  and 
pearl-oceans,  nay  her  sowers  too  and  pearl  divers,  all  that  was 
wise  and  heroic  and  victorious  here  below  ;  of  which  the 
Earth's  centuries  are  but  as  furrows,  for  it  stretches  forth  from 
the  Beginning  onward  even  into  this  Day  ! 

'  My  inheritance,  how  lordly  wide  and  fair  ; 
Time  is  my  fair  seedfield,  to  Time  I'm  heir !  ' 

Heavier  wrong  is  not  done  under  the  sun.  It  lasts  from  year 
to  year,  f  mm  century  to  century  ;  the  blinded  sire  slaves  him- 
self out,  and  leaves  a  blinded  son  ;  and  men,  made  in  the 
image  of  God,  continue  as  two-legged  beasts  of  labour  ; — an  J 
in  the  largest  empire  of  the  world,  it  is  a  debate  whether  a 


70 


CHARTISM. 


small  fraction  of  the  Revenue  of  one  Day  (30,000£.  is  but  thaft 
shall,  after  Thirteen  Centuries,  be  laid  out  on  it,  or  not  laid 
out  on  it.  Have  we  Governors,  have  we  Teachers  ;  have  we 
had  a  Church  these  thirteen  hundred  years?  What  is  an 
Overseer  of  souls,  an  Arch-overseer,  Archiepiscopus  ?  Is  he 
something  ?  If  so,  let  him  lay  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  say 
what  thing ! 

\_JBut  quitting  all  that,  of  which  the  human  soul  cannot  well 
speak  in  terms  of  civility,  let  us  observe  now  that  Education 
is  not  only  an  eternal  duty,  but  has  at  length  become  even  a 
temporary  and  ephemeral  one,  which  the  necessities  of  the 
hour  will  oblige  us  to  look  after.  These  Twenty-four  million 
labouring  men,  if  their  affairs  remain  unregulated,  chaotic, 
will  burn  ricks  and  mills  ;  reduce  us,  themselves  and  the 
world  into  ashes  and  ruin.  Simply  their  affairs  cannot  remain 
unregulated,  chaotic  ^but  must  be  regulated,  brought  into 
some  kind  of  order/  What  intellect  were  able  to  regulate 
them?  The  intellect  of  a  Bacon,  the  energy  of  a  Luther,  if 
left  to  their  own  strength,  might  pause  in  dismay  before  such 
a  task  ;  a  Bacon  and  Luther  added  together,  to  be  perpetual 
prime  minister  over  us,  could  not  do  it.  No  one  great  and 
greatest  intellect  can  do  it.  What  can  ?  Only  Twenty-four 
million  ordinary  intellects,  once  awakened  into  action  ;  these, 
well  presided  over,  may.  Intellect,  insight,  is  the  discern- 
ment of  order  in  disorder ;  it  is  the  discovery  of  the  will  of 
Nature,  of  God's  will ;  the  beginning  of  the  capability  to  walk 
according  to  that.  With  perfect  intellect,  were  such  possible 
without  perfect  morality,  the  world  would  be  perfect ;  its 
efforts  unerringly  correct,  its  results  continually  successful, 
its  condition  faultless.  Intellect  is  like  light ;  the  Chaos  be- 
comes a  World  under  it :  fiat  lux.  These  Twenty-four  million 
intellects  are  but  common  intellects  ;  but  they  are  intellects  ; 
in  earnest  about  the  matter,  instructed  each  about  his  own 
province  of  it  ;  labouring  each  perpetually,  with  what  partial 
light  can  be  attained,  to  bring  such  province  into  rationality. 
From  the  partial  determinations  and  their  conflict,  springs 
the  universal.  Precisely  what  quantity  of  intellect  was  in  the 
Twenty-four  millions  will  be  exhibited  by  the  result  they 


IMPOSSIBLE. 


77 


arrive  at  ;  that  quantity  and  no  more.  According  as  tliere 
was  intellect  or  no  intellect  in  the  individuals,  will  the  general 
conclusion  they  make  out  embody  itself  as  a  world-healing 
Truth  and  Wisdom,  or  as  a  baseless  fateful  Hallucination,  a 
Chimgera  breathing  not  fabulous  fire  !^] 

Dissenters  call  for  one  scheme  of  Education,  the  Church 
objects  ;  this  party  objects,  and  that  ;  there  is  endless  objec- 
tion, by  him  and  by  her  and  by  it :  a  subject  encumbered 
with  difficulties  on  every  side  ?  Pity  that  difficulties  exist ; 
that  Keligion,  of  all  things,  should  occasion  difficulties.  We 
do  not  extenuate  them  :  in  their  reality  they  are  considerable  ; 
in  their  appearance  and  pretension,  they  are  insuj^erable, 
heart-appalling  to  all  Secretaries  of  the  Home  Department. 
For,  in  very  truth,  how  can  Religion  be  divorced  from  Educa- 
tion ?  An  irreverent  knowledge  is  no  knowledge  ;  may  be  a 
development  of  the  logical  or  other  handicraft  faculty  inward 
or  outward  ;  but  is  no  culture  of  the  soul  of  a  man.  A 
knowledge  that  ends  in  barren  self-worship,  comparative  in- 
difference or  contempt  for  all  God's  Universe  except  one  insig- 
nificant item  thereof,  what  is  it  ?  Handicraft  develojnnent, 
and  even  shallow  as  handicraft.  Nevertheless  is  handicraft 
itself,  and  the  habit  of  the  merest  logic,  nothing  ?  It  is  al- 
ready something  ;  it  is  the  indispensable  beginnings  of  every 
thing  !  Wise  men  know  it  to  be  an  indispensable  something  ; 
not  yet  much  ;  and  would  so  gladly  superadd  to  it  the  ele- 
ment whereby  it  may  become  all.  Wise  men  would  not 
quarrel  in  attempting  this  ;  they  would  lovingly  co-operate  in 
attempting  it. 

'  And  now  how  teach  religion  ? '  so  asks  the  indignant  Ultra- 
radical, cited  above  ;  an  Ultra-radical  seemingly  not  of  the 
Benthamee  species,  with  whom,  though  his  dialect  is  far  dif- 
ferent, there  are  sound  churchmen,  we  hope,  who  have  some 
fellow-feeling:  'How  teach  religion?  By  plying  with  litur- 
'  gies,  catechisms,  credos  ;  droning  thirty-nine  or  other  arti- 
'  cles  incessantly  into  the  infant  ear  ?  Friends  !  In  that  case, 
*  why  not  apply  to  Birmingham,  and  have  Machines  made, 
'  and  set  up  at  all  street-corners,  in  highways  and  byways,  to 
1  repeat  and  vociferate  the  same,  not  ceasing  night  or  dav  ? 


78 


CHARTISM. 


'  The  genius  of  Birmingham  is  adequate  to  that.  Albertus 
'  Magnus  had  a  leather  man  that  could  articulate  ;  not  to  speak 
'  of  Martinus  Scriblerus's  Niirnberg  man  that  could  reason  as 
'  well  as  we  know  who  !  Depend  upon  it,  Birmingham  can 
'  make  machines  to  repeat  liturgies  and  articles  ;  to  do  what- 
'  soever  feat  is  mechanical.  And  what  were  all  schoolmasters, 
'  nay  all  priests  and  churches  compared  with  this  Birmingham 
'  Iron  Church  !  Votes  of  two  millions  in  aid  of  the  church 
'  were  then  something.  You  order,  at  so  many  pounds  a-head, 
'  so  many  thousand  iron  parsons  as  your  grant  covers  ;  and 
'  fix  them  by  satisfactory  masonry  in  all  quarters  wheresoever 
'  wanted,  to  preach  there  independent  of  the  world.  In  loud 
'  thoroughfares,  still  more  in  unawakened  districts,  troubled 
'  with  argumentative  infidelity,  you  make  the  windpipes  wider, 
'  strengthen  the  main  steam-cylinder ;  your  parson  preaches, 

*  to  the  due  pitch,  while  you  give  him  coal ;  and  fears  no  man 
'  or  thing.    Here  were  a  "  Church-extension ; "  to  which  I, 

'  with  my  last  penny,  did  I  believe  in  it,  could  subscribe.  

'  Ye  blind  leaders  of  the  blind  !  Are  we  Calmucks,  that  pray 
'  by  turning  of  a  rotatory  calebash  with  written  prayers  in  it  ? 
'  Is  Mammon  and  machinery  the  means  of  converting  human 

*  souls,  as  of  spinning  cotton  ?  Is  God,  as  Jean  Paul  predicted 
'  it  would  be,  become  verily  a  Force  ;  the  iEther  too  a  Gas ! 
'  Alas,  that  Atheism  should  have  got  the  length  of  putting  on 

*  priests'  vestments,  and  penetrating  into  the  sanctuary  itself ! 
'  Can  dronings  of  articles,  repetitions  of  liturgies,  and  all  the 
1  cash  and  contrivance  of  Birmingham  and  the  Bank  of  Eng- 
'  land  united  bring  ethereal  fire  into  a  human  soul,  quicken  it 
'  out  of  earthly  darkness  into  heavenly  wisdom  ?  Soul  is 
'kindled  only  by  soul.  To  " teach "  religion,  the  first  thing 
'  needful,  and  also  the  last  and  the  only  thing,  is  finding  of  a 
'  man  who  has  religion.  All  else  follows  from  this,  church- 
'  building,  church-extension,  whatever  else  is  needful  follows  ; 
'  without  this  nothing  will  follow.' 

From  which  we,  for  our  part,  conclude  that  the  method  of 
teaching  religion  to  the  English  people  is  still  far  behindhand  ; 
that  the  wise  and  pious  may  well  ask  themselves  in  silence 
wistfully,  "  How  is  that  last  priceless  element,  by  which  educa- 


IMPOSSIBLE. 


tion  becomes  perfect,  to  be  superadded  ?  "  and  the  unwise 
who  think  themselves  pious,  answering  aloud,  "  By  this 
method,  By  that  method,"  long  argue  of  it  to  small  purpose. 

But  now,  in  the  mean  time,  could  not  by  some  fit  official 
person,  some  fit  announcement  be  made,  in  words  well-weighed, 
in  plan  well-schemed,  adequately  representing  the  facts  of  the 
thing,  that  after  thirteen  centuries  of  waiting,  he  the  official 
person,  and  England  with  him,  was  minded  now  to  have  the 
mystery  of  the  Alphabetic  Letters  imparted  to  all  human 
souls  in  this  realm?  Teaching  of  religion  was  a  thing  he 
could  not  undertake  to  settle  this  day  ;  it  would  be  work  for 
a  day  after  this  ;  the  work  of  this  day  was  teaching  of  the  al- 
phabet to  all  people.  The  miraculous  art  of  reading  and 
writing,  such  seemed  to  him  the  needful  preliminary  of  all  teach- 
ing, the  first  corner-stone  of  what  foundation  soever  could  be 
laid  for  what  edifice  soever,  in  the  teaching  kind.  Let  pious 
Cburchism  make  haste,  let  pious  Dissenterism  make  haste, 
let  all  pious  preachers  and  missionaries  make  haste,  bestir 
themselves  according  to  their  zeal  and  skill :  he  the  offi- 
cial person  stood  up  for  the  Alphabet ;  and  was  even  im- 
patient for  it,  having  waited  thirteen  centuries  now.  He  in- 
sisted, and  would  take  no  denial,  postponement,  promise, 
excuse,  or  subterfuge,  That  all  English  persons  should  be 
taught  to  read.  He  appealed  to  all  rational  Englishmen,  of 
all  creeds,  classes  and  colours,  Whether  this  was  not  a  fair 
demand  ;  nay  whether  it  was  not  an  indispensable  one  in 
these  days,  Swing  and  Chartism  having  risen  ?  For  a  choice 
of  inoffensive  Hornbooks,  and  Schoolmasters  able  to  teach 
reading,  he  trusted  the  mere  secular  sagacity  of  a  National 
Collective  Wisdom,  in  proper  committee,  might  be  found  suf- 
ficient. He  purposed  to  appoint  such  Schoolmasters,  to  ven- 
ture on  the  choice  of  such  Hornbooks  ;  to  send  a  School- 
master and  Hornbook  into  every  township,  parish  and  hamlet 
of  England  ;  so  that,  in  ten  years  hence,  an  Englishman  who 
could  not  read  might  be  acknowledged  as  the  monster,  w7hich 
he  really  is ! 

This  official  person's  plan  we  do  not  give.  The  thing  lies 
there,  with  the  facts  of  it,  and  with  the  appearances  or  sham- 


80 


CHARTISM. 


facts  of  it ;  a  plan  adequately  representing  the  facts  of  the 
thing  could  by  human  energy  be  struck  out,  does  lie  there  for 
discovery  and  striking  out.  *  It  is  his,  the  official  person's 
duty,  not  ours,  to  mature  a  plan.  We  can  believe  that  Church - 
ism  and  Dissenterism  would  clamour  aloud ;  but  yet  that  in 
the  mere  secular  Wisdom  of  Parliament  a  perspicacity  equal 
to  the  choice  of  Hornbooks  might,  in  very  deed,  be  found  to 
reside.  England  we  believe  would,  if  consulted,  resolve  to 
that  effect.  Alas,  grants  of  a  half-day's  revenue  once  in  the 
thirteen  centuries  for  such  an  object,  do  not  call  out  the  voice 
of  England,  only  the  superficial  clamour  of  England  !  Horn- 
books unexceptionable  to  the  candid  portion  of  England,  we 
will  believe,  might  be  selected.  Nay,  we  can  conceive  that 
Schoolmasters  fit  to  teach  reading  might,  by  a  board  of  ra- 
tional men,  whether  from  Oxford  or  Hoxton,  or  from  both  or 
neither  of  these  places,  be  pitched  upon.  '  We  can  conceive 
even,  as  in  Prussia,  that  a  penalty,  civil  disabilities,  that  pen- 
alties and  disabilities  till  they  were  found  effectual,  might  be 
by  law  inflicted  on  every  parent  who  did  not  teach  his  children 
to  read,  on  every  man  who  had  not  been  taught  to  read.  We 
can  conceive  in  fine,  such  is  the  vigour  of  our  imagination, 
there  miq;ht  be  found  in  England,  at  a  dead-lift,  strength 
enough  to  perform  this  miracle,  and  produce  it  henceforth  as 
a  miracle  done  :  the  teaching  of  England  to  read !  Harder 
things,  we  do  know,  have  been  performed  by  nations  before 
now,  not  abler-looking  than  England.  Ah  me !  if,  by  some 
beneficent  chance,  there  should  be  an  official  man  found  in 
England  who  could  and  would,  with  deliberate  courage,  after 
ripe  counsel,  with  candid  insight,  with  patience,  practical 
sense,  knowing  realities  to  be  real,  knowing  clamours  to  be 
clamorous  and  to  seem  real,  propose  this  thing,  and  the  in- 
numerable things  springing  from  it, — wo  to  any  Churchism 
or  any  Dissenterism  that  cast  itself  athwart  the  path  of  that 
man  !  Avaunt  ye  gainsayers  !  is  darkness,  and  ignorance  of  the 
Alphabet  necessary  for  you  ?  Kcconcile  yourselves  to  the  Al- 
phabet, or  depart  elsewhither  !— Would  not  all  that  has  gen- 
uineness in  England  gradually  rally  round  such  a  man  ;  all 
that  has  strength  in  England  ?    For  realities  alone  have 


IMPOSSIBLE. 


81 


strength  ;  wind-bags  are  wind ;  cant  is  cant,  leave  it  alone 
there.  Nor  are  all  clamours  momentous :  among  living 
creatures,  we  find,  the  loudest  is  the  longest-eared  ;  among  life- 
less things  the  loudest  is  the  drum,  the  emptiest.  Alas,  that 
official  persons,  and  all  of  us,  had  but  eyes  to  see  what  was 
real,  what  was  merely  chimerical,  and  thought  or  called  itself 
real !  How  many  dread  minatory  Castle-spectres  should  we 
leave  there,  with  their  admonishing  right-hand  and  ghastly- 
burning  saucer-eyes,  to  do  simply  whatsoever  they  might  find 
themselves  able  to  do  !  Alas,  that  we  were  but  real  ourselves  ; 
we  should  then  have  surer  vision  for  the  real.  Castle-spectres, 
in  their  utmost  terror,  are  but  poor  mimicries  of  that  real  and 
most  real  terror  which  lies  in  the  Life  of  every  Man  :  that, 
thou  coward,  is  the  thing  to  be  afraid  of,  if  thou  wilt  live  in 
fear.  It  is  but  the  scratch  of  a  bare  bodkin  ;  it  is  but  the 
flight  of  a  few  days  of  time  ;  and  even  thou,  poor  palpitating 
featherbrain,  wilt  find  how  real  it  is.  Eternity  :  hast  thou 
heard  of  that  ?  Is  that  a  fact,  or  is  it  no  fact?  Are  Bucking- 
ham House  and  St.  Stephens  in  that,  or  not  in  that  ? 

But  now  we  have  to  speak  of  the  second  great  thing :  Emi- 
gration. It  was  said  above,  all  new  epochs,  so  convulsed  and 
tumultuous  to  look  upon,  are  'expansions,'  increase  of  faculty 
not  yet  organised.  It  is  eminently  true  of  the  confusions  of 
this  time  of  ours.  Disorganic  Manchester  afflicts  us  with  its 
Chartisms ;  yet  is  not  spinning  of  clothes  for  the  naked  in- 
trinsically a  most  blessed  thing  ?  Manchester  once  organic  will 
bless  and  not  afflict.  The  confusions,  if  we  would  understand 
them,  are  at  bottom  mere  increase  which  we  know  not  yet 
how  to  manage  ;  '  new  wealth  which  the  old  coffers  will  not 
hold.'  How  true  is  this,  above  all,  of  the  strange  phenome- 
non called  1  over  population  ! ,%  Over-population  is  the  grand 
anomaly,  which  is  bringing  all  other  anomalies  to  a  crisis. 
Now  once  more,  as  at  the  end  of  the  Koman  Empire,  a  most 
confused  epoch  and  yet  one  of  the  greatest,  the  Teutonic  Coun- 
tries find  themselves  too  full.  On  a  certain  western  rim  of 
our  small  Europe,  there  are  more  men  than  were  expected. 
Heaped  up  against  the  western  shore  there,  and  for  a  couple 


82 


CHARTISM. 


of  hundred  miles  inward,  the  '  tide  of  population '  swells  too 
high,  and  confuses  itself  somewhat !  Over -population  ?  And 
yet,  if  this  small  western  rim  of  Europe  is  overpeopled,  does 
not  everywhere  else  a  whole  vacant  Earth,  as  it  were,  call  to 
us,  Come  and  till  me,  come  and  reap  me  !  Can  it  be  an  evil 
that  in  an  Earth  such  as  ours  there  should  be  new  Men? 
Considered  as  mercantile  commodities,  as  working  machines, 
is  there  in  Birmingham  or  out  of  it  a  machine  of  such  value  ? 
'  Good  Heavens  !  a  white  European  Man,  standing  on  his  two 
'  legs,  with  his  two  five-fingered  Hands  at  his  shackle-bones, 
'  and  miraculous  Head  on  his  shoulders,  is  worth  something 
*  considerable,  one  would  say ! '  The  stupid  black  African 
man  brings  money  in  the  market  ;  the  much  stupider  four- 
footed  horse  brings  money  : — it  is  we  that  have  not  yet 
learned  the  art  of  managing  our  white  European  man  ! 

The  controversies  on  Malthus  and  the  '  Population  Prin- 
ciple,' '  Preventive  Check  '  and  so  forth,  with  which  the  public 
ear  has  been  deafened  for  a  long  while,  are  indeed  sufficiently 
mournful.  Dreary,  stolid,  dismal,  without  hope  for  this  world 
or  the  next,  is  all  that  of  the  preventive  check  and  the  denial 
of  the  preventive  check.  Anti  Malthusians  quoting  their  Bible 
against  palpable  facts,  are  not  a  pleasant  spectacle.  On  the 
other  hand,  how  often  have  we  read  in  Malthusian  benefactors 
of  the  species  :  '  The  working  people  have  their  condition  in 
1  their  own  hands  :  let  them  diminish  the  supply  of  labourers, 
'  and  of  course  the  demand  and  the  remuneration  will  increase ! ' 
Yes,  let  them  diminish  the  supply  :  but  who  are  they  ?  They 
are  twenty-four  millions  of  human  individuals,  scattered  over 
a  hundred  and  eighteen  thousand  square  miles  of  space  and 
more  ;  weaving,  delving,  hammering,  joinering  ;  each  unknown 
to  his  neighbour  ;  each  distinct  within  his  own  skin.  They 
are  not  a  kind  of  character  that  can  take  a  resolution,  and  act 
on  it,  very  readily.  Smart  Sally  in  our  alley  proves  ail-too 
fascinating  to  brisk  Tom  in  yours :  can  Tom  be  called  on  to 
make  pause,  and  calculate  the  demand  for  labour  in  the  Brit- 
ish Empire  first  ?  Nay,  if  Tom  did  renounce  his  highest  bless- 
edness of  life,  and  struggle  and  conquer  like  a  Saint  Francis 
of  Assisi,  what  would  it  profit  him  or  us  ?    Seven  millions  of 


IMPOSSIBLE. 


83 


the  finest  peasantry  do  not  renounce,  but  proceed  all  the  more 
briskly  ;  and  with  blue-visaged  Hibernians  instead  of  fair 
Saxon  Tomsons,  and  Sallysons,  the  latter  end  of  that  country 
is  worse  than  the  beginning.  O  wonderful  Malthusian  proph- 
ets !  Millenniums  are  undoubtedly  coming,  must  come  one 
way  or  the  other  :  but  will  it  be,  think  you,  by  twenty  mil- 
lions of  working  people  simultaneously  striking  work  in  that 
department ;  passing,  in  universal  trades-union,  a  resolution 
not  to  beget  any  more  till  the  labour-market  becomes  satisfac- 
tory ?  By  Day  and  Night !  they  were  indeed  irresistibly  so  ; 
not  to  be  compelled  by  law  or  war  ;  might  make  their  own 
terms  with  the  richer  classes,  and  defy  the  world ! 

A  shade  more  rational  is  that  of  those  other  benefactors  of 
the  species,  who  counsel  that  in  each  parish,  in  some  central 
locality,  instead  of  the  Parish  Clergyman,  there  might  be  es- 
tablished some  Parish  Exterminator ;  or  say  a  Reservoir  of 
Arsenic,  kept  up  at  the  public  expense,  free  to  all  parishioners  ; 
iovivhich  Church  the  rates  probably  would  not  be  grudged. — 
Ah,  it  is  bitter  jesting  on  such  a  subject.  One's  heart  is  sick 
to  look  at  the  dreary  chaos,  and  valley  of  Jehosaphat,  scattered 
with  the  hmbs  and  souls  of  one's  fellow-men  ;  and  no  divine 
voice,  only  creaking  of  hungry  vultures,  inarticulate  bodeful 
ravens,  horn-eyed  parrots  that  do  articulate,  proclaiming,  Let 
these  bones  live ! — Dante's  Divina  Commedia  is  called  the 
mournfullest  of  books  :  transcendant  mistemper  of  the  no- 
blest soul ;  utterance  of  a  boundless,  godlike,  unspeakable, 
implacable  sorrow  and  protest  against  the  world.  But  in 
Holywell  Street,  not  long  ago,  we  bought,  for  three-pence,  a 
book  still  mournfuller  :  the  Pamphlet  of  one  "  Marcus,"  whom 
his  poor  Chartist  editor  and  republisher  calls  the  "  Demon 
Author."  This  Marcus  Pamphlet  was  the  book  alluded  to  by 
Stephens  the  Preacher  Chartist,  in  one  of  his  harangues  :  it 
proves  to  be  no  fable  that  such  a  book  existed  ;  here  it  lies, 
'  Printed  by  John  Hill,  Black-horse  Court,  Fleet  Street,  and 
'  now  reprinted  for  the  instruction  of  the  labourer,  by  Will- 
4am  Dugdale,  Holywell  Street,  Strand,'  the  exasperated  Chart- 
ist editor  who  sells  it  you  for  three-pence.  We  have  read 
Marcus  ;  but  his  sorrow  is  not  divine.    We  hoped  he  would 


84 


CHARTISM. 


turn  out  to  have  been  in  sport :  ah  no,  it  is  grim  earnest  with 
him  :  grim  as  very  death.  Marcus  is  not  a  demon  author  at 
all :  he  is  a  benefactor  of  the  species  in  his  own  kind  ;  has 
looked  intensely  on  the  world's  woes,  from  a  Benthamee  Mal- 
thusian  watch-tower,  under  a  Heaven  dead  as  iron  ;  and  does 
now  with  much  longwindedness,  in  a  drawling,  snuffling,  cir- 
cuitous, extremely  dull,  yet  at  bottom  handfast  and  positive 
manner,  recommend  that  all  children  of  working  people,  after 
the  third,  be  disposed  of  by  c  painless  extinction.'  Charcoal-va- 
pour and  other  methods  exist.  The  mothers  would  consent, 
might  be  made  to  consent.  Three  children  might  be  left  liv- 
ing ;  or  perhaps,  for  Marcus's  calculations  are  not  yet  perfect, 
two  and  a  half.  There  might  be  '  beautiful  cemeteries  with 
colonnades  and  flower-pots,'  in  which  the  patriot  infanticide 
matrons  might  delight  to  take  their  evening  walk  of  contem- 
plation ;  and  reflect  what  patriotesses  they  were,  what  a  cheer- 
ful flowery  world  it  was.  Such  is  the  scheme  of  Marcus ;  this 
is  what  he,  for  his  share,  could  devise  to  heal  the  world's  woes. 
A  benefactor  of  the  species,  clearly  recognisable  as  such  ;  the 
saddest  scientific  mortal  we  have  ever  in  this  world  fallen  in 
with  ;  sadder  even  than  poetic  Dante.  His  is  a  wogod-like  sor- 
row ;  sadder  than  the  godlike.  The  Chartist  editor,  dull  as 
he,  calls  him  demon  author,  and  a  man  set  on  by  the  Poor- 
Law  Commissioners.  What  a  black,  godless,  waste-struggling 
world,  in  this  once  merry  England  of  ours,  do  such  pamphlets 
and  such  editors  betoken  !  Laissez-faire  and  Malthus,  Malthus 
and  Laissez-faire :  ought  not  these  two  at  length  to  part  com- 
pany ?  Might  we  not  hope  that  both  of  them  had  as  good  as  de- 
livered their  message  now,  and  were  about  to  go  their  ways  ? 

For  all  this  of  the  'painless  extinction,'  and  the  rest,  is  in 
a  world  where  Canadian  Forests  stand  unfelled,  boundless 
Plains  and  Prairies  unbroken  with  the  plough  ;  on  the  west 
and  on  the  east,  green  desert  spaces  never  yet  made  white 
with  corn  ;  and  to  the  overcrowded  little  western  nook  of 
Europe,  our  Terrestrial  Planet,  nine-tenths  of  it  yet  vacant  or 
tenanted  by  nomades,  is  still  crying,  Come  and  till  me,  come 
and  reap  me  !  And  in  an  England  with  wealth,  and  means 
for  moving,  such  as  no  nation  ever  before  had.    With  ships  ; 


IMPOSSIBLE. 


85 


with  war-ships  rotting  idle,  which,  but  bidden  move  and  not 
rot,  might  bridge  all  oceans.  With  trained  men,  educated 
to  pen  and  practice,  to  administer  and  act ;  briefless  Barris- 
ters, chargeless  Clergy,  taskless  Scholars,  languishing  in  all 
court-houses,  hiding  in  obscure  garrets,  besieging  all  ante- 
chambers, in  passionate  want  of  simply  one  thing,  Work  ; — 
with  as  many  Half-pay  Officers  of  both  Services,  wearing 
themselves  down  in  wretched  tedium,  as  might  lead  an  Em- 
igrant host  larger  than  Xerxes'  was !  Laissez  faire  and  Mal- 
thus  positively  must  part  company.  Is  it  not  as  if  this  swell- 
ing, simmering,  never-resting  Europe  of  ours  stood,  once 
more,  on  the  verge  of  an  expansion  without  parallel :  strug- 
gling, struggling  like  a  mighty  tree  again  about  to  burst 
in  the  embrace  of  summer,  and  shoot  forth  broad  frondent 
boughs  which  would  fill  the  whole  earth  ?  A  disease  but  the 
noblest  of  all, — as  of  her  who  is  in  pain  and  sore  travail,  but 
travails  that  she  may  be  a  mother,  and  say,  Behold,  there  is  a 
new  Man  born  ! 

1  True  thou  Gold-Hofrath,'  exclaims  an  eloquent  satirical 
German  of  our  acquaintance,  in  that  strange  Book  of  his,  * 
'  True  thou  Gold-Hofrath  :  too  crowded  indeed  !  Meanwhile 
'  what  portion  of  this  inconsiderable  Terraqueous  Globe  have 
'  ye  actually  tilled  and  delved,  till  it  will  grow  no  more  ? 
'  How  thick  stands  your  population  in  the  Pampas  and  Savan- 
1  nas  of  America  :  round  ancient  Carthage,  and  in  the  interior 
'  of  Africa  ;  on  both  slopes  of  the  Altaic  chain,  in  the  central 
'  Platform  of  Asia  ;  in  Spain,  Greece,  Turkey,  Crim  Tartary, 
'  the  Curragh  of  Kildare  ?  One  man,  in  one  year,  as  I  have 
4  understood  it,  if  you  lend  him  earth,  will  feed  himself  and 
'  nine  others.  Alas,  where  now  are  the  Hengsts  and  Alarics 
1  of  our  still  glowing,  still  expanding  Europe  ;  who,  when 
'  their  home  is  grown  too  narrow,  will  enlist  and,  like  fire-pil- 
'  lars,  guide  onwards  those  superfluous  masses  of  indomitable 
'  living  Valour :  equipped,  not  now  with  the  battle-axe  and 
1  war-chariot,  but  with  the  steamengine  and  ploughshare  ? 
1  Where  are  they  ? — Preserving  their  Game  ! ' 

*  Sartor  Resartus,  b.  iii.  c.  4. 


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